THE  ROMANCE  AND 

TRAGEDY  OF  A 

WIDELY  KNOWN-BUSINESS  MAN 


NEW  YORK 


HIMSELF 


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THE    WOMAN 


THE  ROMANCE 
AND  TRAGEDY 


or  a 


WIDELY  KNOWN  BUSINESS  MAN 
OF  NEW  YORK 


BY  HIMSELF 


Special  Autograph   Editio?i 


NEW  YORK  AND  WASHINGTON 

THE  NEALE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1905 


a 

115 


COPYRIGHT,  1905,  BY 
THE   NEALE   PUBLISHING   COMPANY 


TO  MT  WIFE 

Who,  after  more  than  thirty-two  years  of  married  life,  is  still 
my  sweetheart 


TO  MY  READERS 


A  true  story  of  a  life  I  give  you ;  not  in  its  com- 
pletion, for  it  is  still  unfinished.  The  romance  of 
youth  has  lingered  through  all  the  later  years  and  the 
tragedy  of  these  years  could  not  destroy  it.  In  the 
manuscript  tears  have  fallen  on  some  pages,  smiles 
on  others,  and  still  others  have  been  scorched  with 
the  fire  of  indignation. 

Why  is  it  written  ?  To  bear  testimony  to  the  love 
and  devotion  of  a  noble  woman ;  to  set  straight  be- 
fore the  world  certain  matters  now  misunderstood; 
to  give  evidence  of  the  insincerity  of  friendship  that 
comes  to  one  in  prosperity  only  to  vanish  in  adver- 
sity ;  and  also,  in  the  hope  that  an  appreciative  pub- 
lic will  buy  the  book. 

Not  all  the  names  used  are  fictitious,  and  where 
they  are  so,  no  effort  has  been  made  to  conceal  iden- 
tity. 

No  spirit  of  malice  has  animated  the  writer.  Al- 
though his  wounds  have  been  deep  he  knows  now  no 
feeling  save  sorrow  and  regret  that  they  should  have 
been  inflicted  by  his  "friends." 

William  Ingraham  Russell. 

February  ist,  1905.  - 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I     The  First  Round  of  the  Ladder n 

II     I  Meet  My  Affinity 19 

III  A  Co-Partnership  Dissolved 26 

IV  And  the  Answer  Was  ''Yes" 32 

V     Wedding  Bells 39' 

VI     A  First  Reverse  of  Fortune 45 

VII     The  Coming  of  the  Stork 51 

VIII     The  New  Partner 56 

IX     Suburban  Life 62 

X     My  Partner  Retires 67 

XI     A  Year  of  Sunshine 72 

XII     An  Ideal  Life 76 

XIII  Prosperous  Days 81 

XIV  Near  the  Dark  Valley 86 

XV     A  Successful  Maneuver 91 

XVI     "Redstone"    96 

XVII     Our  Neighbors 100 

XVIII     An  Uneventful  Year 104 

XIX     The  Stream  Broadens 107 

XX     Retrogression  no 

XXI     The  Dam  Gives  Way 114 

XXII     The  Calm  Before  the  Storm 118 

XXIII  "A  Few  Weak  French  Speculators" 121 

XXIV  Exciting  Times 125 

XXV     "Come  and  Dance  in  the  Barn" 131 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXVI  An  Importer  and  Dealer 134 

XXVII  Sad  Hearts  at  Knollwood 138 

XXVIII  New   Faces 144 

XXIX  A  Short  Year  and  a  Merry  One 148 

XXX  A  Voucher 151 

XXXI  Two  Sides  to  the  Question 154 

XXXII  The  Panic  of  Ninety-Three 157 

XXXIII  Farewell  to  "Redstone" 161 

XXXIV  A  Summer  on  the  Sound 166 

XXXV  Monmouth  Beach 170 

XXXVI  The  Ship  Founders 174 

XXXVII  The  Family  and  Friends 181 

XXXVIII  "W.  E.  Stowe  &  Co.,  Incorporated" 185 

XXXIX  The  Struggle  Commenced 190 

XL  The  Struggle  Continued 196 

XLI  Darkness  Before  the  Dawn 203 

XLII  Brighter    Days 207 

XLIII  Smooth  Sailing  Into  Rough  Waters 211 

XLIV  The  Tyranny  of  the  Jury  Law 217 

XLV  Bitter  Trials 220  . 

XLVI  At  the  Brink  of  the  Grave 223 

XLVII  Again  at  the  Helm 227 

XLVIII  A  Nightmare 232 

XLIX  Retrospection    235 

L  A   Dream 240 


THE  ROMANCE  AND  TRAGEDY  OF 
A  WIDELY  KNOWN  BUSINESS 

MAN  OF  NEW  YORK 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  FIRST  ROUND  OF  THE  LADDER 

''New  York,  March  23d,  1866. 
"Master  Walter  E.  Stowe: 

"If  you  have  not  yet  procured  a  situation,  please 
call  at  my  office,  45  Duane  Street,  and  oblige. 
"Yours  truly, 

"Jno.  Derham, 
"Per  T.  E.  D." 

This  letter  came  to  me  in  response  to  my  applica- 
tion for  a  situation  as  an  office-boy.  I  had  replied 
to  the  advertisement  in  the  Herald,  without  consult- 
ing my  parents,  knowing  they  would  raise  objections 
to  my  leaving  school. 

My  father,  one  of  New  York's  old-time  shipping 
merchants,  running  a  line  of  packets  to  Cuban  ports, 


12  The  First  Round  of  the  Ladder 

had  failed  in  business  as  a  result  of  losses  during  the 
war,  the  crowding  out  of  sailing  vessels  by  steamers, 
and  unfortunate  outside  investments. 

It  did  not  require  great  discernment  to  see  the  ne- 
cessity of  my  giving  up  all  idea  of  going  to  Columbia 
College,  for  which  I  was  preparing,  and  thus,  before 
I  was  sixteen  years  of  age,  I  commenced  as  an  office- 
boy  at  a  salary  of  three  dollars  per  week.  The  posi- 
tion in  those  days  was  vastly  different  from  what  it 
is  to-day.  The  work  now  done  by  janitors  and  por- 
ters fell  to  the  office-boy,  and  my  duties  included 
sweeping  and  dusting  the  office,  cleaning  windows, 
and  in  winter  making  fires. 

This  work,  menial  and  distasteful  as  it  was  to  the 
boy  brought  up  in  luxury,  was  cheerfully  under- 
taken, and  it  is  only  referred  to  here  to  show  that  my 
start  was  from  the  first  round  of  the  ladder. 

My  employer,  a  north  of  Ireland  man,  though  fre- 
quently brusque  with  others,  often  to  the  detriment 
of  his  own  interest,  always  treated  me  with  consid- 
eration and  probably  my  life  at  the  office  ran  as 
smoothly  as  that  of  any  lad  in  similar  position.  The 
only  other  employee  was  a  younger  brother  of  Mr. 
Derham,  who  was  taken  in  as  a  limited  partner 
shortly  after  I  was  employed.  The  firm  carried  on  a 
brokerage  business,  requiring  no  capital,  and  stood 
in  the  trade  as  well  and  perhaps  a  little  better  than 
any  of  its  competitors,  of  which  there  were  but  few. 

Much  of  the  business  done  by  the  firm  consisted 
in  the  execution  of  orders  for  out-of-town  dealers 
and  consumers,  but  by  far  the  greater  volume  com- 


The  First  Round  of  the  Ladder  13 

prised  the  negotiations  carried  on  between  the  differ- 
ent importers  and  dealers  of  New  York. 

The  entire  business  of  the  United  States,  in  their 
line  of  trade,  was  practically  controlled  by  these  im- 
porters and  dealers.  The  characteristics  of  the  trade 
as  they  existed  then,  exist  to-day.  A  few  of  the  old 
firms  have  gone  out  of  existence  through  failure  or 
liquidation,  and  some  accessions  have  been  made, 
chiefly  of  foreign  blood,  but  most  of  the  old  concerns 
remain,  and  though  the  personality  of  these  has 
changed,  through  the  departure  of  many  on  the  long 
journey  and  the  taking  of  their  places  by  their  suc- 
cessors, the  same  spirit  that  was  in  evidence  in  the 
years  immediately  following  the  war,  animates  the 
trade  to-day. 

Admitting  that  sentiment  has  no  place  in  business 
and  brotherly  love  is  not  to  be  expected  amongst 
business  competitors,  I  feel  safe  in  saying  that  in  no 
other  trade  has  jealous  rivalry  so  nearly  approached 
to  personal  animosity. 

Preeminent  in  the  trade  stands  a  firm  with  name 
unchanged  for  three  generations,  of  world-wide 
reputation  for  its  wealth  and  the  philanthropy  of  its 
individual  members,  past  and  present,  all  of  whom 
have  been  prominent  in  New  York's  religious  and 
social  life.  Another  firm  only  a  few  years  ago  dis- 
continued a  custom  of  hanging  on  the  walls  of  its 
offices  scriptural  texts.  Of  still  another  firm,  the 
most  active  member  is  a  leader  of  Brooklyn's  annual 
Sunday-school  processions,  though  he  prides  himself 
on  his  cold  blood,  and  before  leaving  his  home  in  the 


14  The  First  Round  of  the  Ladder 

morning  to  go  to  his  office  replaces  his  heart  with 
a  paving-stone.  But  why  go  on?  Suffice  it  to  say- 
that  the  trade  is  eminently  respectable  and  rich,  in 
some  instances  possessed  of  enormous  wealth,  and 
this  is  the  trade  in  which  I  began  my  career. 

My  office  life  for  the  first  two  years  was  routine 
and  devoid  of  excitement,  except  for  occasional 
strenuous  experiences  the  result  of  Mr.  Derham's 
brusqueness  and  quickness  to  resent  anything  that  he 
deemed  an  attempt  to  take  advantage  of,  or  put  a 
slight  upon  him.  He  was  the  sort  of  man  that  makes 
a  steadfast  friend  or  a  bitter  enemy,  with  no  room 
for  anything  in  between. 

"Walter,  take  this  contract  to  Winter  and  bring 
me  his  acceptance,"  said  Mr.  Derham  on  one  occa- 
sion, when,  having  made  what  in  those  days  was 
considered  a  large  sale,  he  was  feeling  particularly 
good-natured  over  it. 

"Yes,  sir,"  I  replied,  and  was  off  at  once,  little 
knowing  the  reception  awaiting  me  in  the  Beaver 
Street  office  of  Rudolph  C.  Winter. 

On  entering  the  office  I  approached  Mr.  Winter's 
desk  and  handed  him  the  contract.  He  glanced  at  it, 
and  then  all  the  nervous  irritability  for  which  that 
individual  was  noted  came  to  the  surface  at  once. 
Springing  up  from  his  desk,  upsetting  the  chair  in 
his  haste  and  rushing  toward  me,  he  shouted : 

"Here !  take  this  back  to  Mr.  Derham ;  tell  him  I 
won't  have  it !  I  didn't  sell  it ;  get  out !"  And  push- 
ing me  across  the  office,   he   opened   the    door   and 


The  First  Round  of  the  Ladder  15 

thrust  me  into  the  street,  throwing  after  me  my  hat, 
which  had  been  knocked  from  my  hand. 

It  did  not  take  me  long  to  get  back  to  Mr.  Derham 
and  give  him  an  account  of  what  had  occurred. 

In  a  fury  he  put  on  his  hat,  and  saying  "come  with 
me,"  we  walked  rapidly  to  Winter's  office.  Entering 
the  door  with  blood  in  his  eye,  Mr.  Derham  stepped 
up  to  the  still  wrathful  merchant. 

"Winter,  I  understand  you  decline  to  accept  this 
contract/' 

"But,"  began  Winter,  when  down  on  the  desk 
came  Mr.  Derham's  clenched  fist. 

"No  explanations  now;  sign  first,  and  then  after 
you  have  apologized  to  my  messenger,  who  is  my  rep- 
resentative when  I  send  him  to  you,  perhaps  I'll 
listen,  and  I  am  not  sure  I  will  not  give  you  a  good 
thrashing  afterwards." 

The  fury  of  Winter  disappeared  and  in  its  place 
there  was  a  very  mild  spring.  He  signed  the  con- 
tract, told  me  he  was  sorry  he  had  been  so  hasty,  and 
when  I  left  them  he  was  trying  to  pacify  Mr.  Der- 
ham. 

On  another  occasion,  Mr.  Brightman,  of  Bright- 
man  &  Smart,  a  dignified  gentleman  at  that  time 
acting  as  consul  for  the  Netherlands,  called  at  the 
office. 

It  appeared  he  had  made  a  sale  which  he  regretted 
and  he  called  to  have  it  cancelled,  claiming  that  he 
had  been  induced  to  make  the  sale  through  the  alleg- 
ed misrepresentation  by  Mr.  Thomas  Derham,  of 
certain  features  of  the  market. 


16  The  First  Round  of  the  Ladder 

The  argument  became  heated  and  Brightman 
called  Thomas  a  liar.  His  brother  looked  at  him  in 
silence  for  a  moment,  long  enough  to  discover  that 
he  was  lacking  either  in  pluck  or  inclination  to  resent 
the  insult,  then  springing  at  Brightman  he  literally 
threw  him  out  of  the  office. 

These  scenes,  though  not  of  daily  occurrence, 
were  frequent  enough  to  relieve  the  monotony  of  of- 
fice life  and  at  the  same  time  to  give  me  a  wholesome 
fear  of  incurring  my  employer's  displeasure. 

In  the  summer  of  1868  Mr.  Thomas  Derham  was 
married.  For  some  reason  unknown  to  me  his 
brother  did  not  approve,  and  a  little  later  differences 
arose  between  them,  the  friction  increasing  until 
finally  a  separation  of  their  business  interests  was 
agreed  upon.  Mr.  Thomas  Derham  launched  out  on 
his  own  account,  and  the  competition  between  the 
brothers  became  a  bitter  warfare,  all  personal  inter- 
course ceasing. 

At  this  time  my  salary  was  seven  dollars  per  week, 
and  Mr.  Derham,  after  the  dissolution  of  partner- 
ship with  his  brother,  advanced  it  to  ten  dollars. 

As  he  was  my  only  employer  and  there  were  no 
further  advances  later,  this  is  the  largest  salary  I  was 
ever  paid. 

How  large  it  looked  to  me  then  I  remember  well, 
and  although  matters  had  gone  from  bad  to  worse 
at  home  and  most  of  my  earnings  had  to  contribute 
to  keep  the  pot  boiling,  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  were 
rich  the  first  Saturday  night  I  carried  home  the  ten- 
dollar  bill. 


The  First  Round  of  the  Ladder  17 

From  this  time  my  position  in  the  office  became 
more  dignified.  A  woman  was  employed  to  do  the 
cleaning,  and  Mr.  Derham  delegated  to  me  the  plac- 
ing of  many  of  the  smaller  orders  and  occasionally 
sent  me  on  business  trips  to  near-by  cities. 

I  worked  hard  and  faithfully  to  make  my  services 
valuable.  I  kept  the  books,  made  collections,  attend- 
ed to  a  portion  of  the  correspondence,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  I  had  acquired  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
the  methods  of  doing  the  business  and  was  able  to 
carry  out  transactions  to  a  finish  without  having  to 
consult  my  employer. 

In  October,  1870,  Mr.  Derham  told  me  he  had  de- 
cided to  give  up  the  business  and  accept  an  offer 
which  had  been  made  him  by  one  of  the  large  import- 
ing firms,  to  go  to  England  as  its  foreign  representa- 
tive. 

He  proposed  that  I  take  his  business,  paying  him 
for  the  good-will  twenty-five  per  cent,  of  the  profits 
for  three  years. 

As  I  was  not  yet  twenty  years  of  age,  he  thought 
me  too  young  to  assume  the  business  alone,  and  ad- 
vised a  partnership  on  equal  terms  with  a  Mr.  Bulk- 
ley,  then  doing  a  brokerage  business  in  a  line  that 
would  work  in  well  with  ours,  it  being  his  idea  to 
combine  the  two. 

Adam  Bulkley,  a  tall,  handsome  fellow  of  thirty- 
five,  was  a  personal  friend  of  Mr.  Derham.  He  was 
a  captain  in  the  Seventh  Regiment  and  had  seen 
service.     A  man  of  attractive  personality,    he   had 


18  The  First  Round  of  the  Ladder 

many  friends  and  had  married  the  daughter  of  one 
of  the  wealthiest  hide  and  leather  brokers  in  the 
"swamp." 

I  do  not  know  why,  but  in  my  first  interview  with 
this  man  I  took  an  aversion  to  him.  I  tried  to  con- 
vince Mr.  Derham  that  I  could  do  better  without  a 
partner,  but  he  thought  otherwise,  and  not  unnatur- 
ally, under  the  circumstances,  I  allowed  matters  to 
take  their  course  as  he  planned  them,  and  the  part- 
nership was  made  for  a  period  of  three  years. 

Early  in  November  Mr.  Derham  sailed  for  Eng- 
land, leaving  as  his  successor  the  firm  of  Bulkley  & 
Stowe.v 


CHAPTER  II 

I  MEET  MY  AFFINITY 

My  home  was  in  Brooklyn.  On  my  mother's  side 
the  family  came  from  the  old  Dutch  settlers  of  that 
section  of  Greater  New  York.  My  mother's  father 
was  a  commissioned  officer  in  the  war  of  1812.  My 
father  came  from  Connecticut,  of  English  ancestry. 
I  used  to  tell  my  mother  the  only  thing  I  could  never 
forgive  her  was  that  I  was  born  in  Brooklyn,  and  I 
have  never  gotten  over  my  dislike  for  the  place, 
though  it  is  nearly  thirty  years  since  I  left  there. 

The  family  for  generations  back  have  been  Episco- 
palians, and  from  earliest  childhood  I  was  accus- 
tomed to  attend  regularly  Sunday-school  and  church 
services. 

After  my  father's  failure  we  moved  into  a  house 
on  St.  James  Place,  and  our  church  home  was  old  St. 
Luke's,  on  Clinton  avenue.  Doctor  Diller,  the  rector, 
who  lost  his  life  in  the  burning  of  a  steamboat  on  the 
East  River,  was  a  life-long  friend  of  the  family,  and 
my  social  intercourse  was  chiefly  with  the  young 
people  of  his  church. 

Mr.  Sherman,  the  treasurer  and  senior  warden  of 
the  church  and  superintendent  of  the  Sunday-school, 
a  fine  old  gentleman,  now  gathered  to  his  fathers, 


20  I  Meet  My  Affinity 

was  one  of  Hon.  Seth  Low's  "Cabinet"  when  he  was 
Mayor  of  Brooklyn.  Seth  Low,  by  the  way,  is  the 
same  age  as  myself,  and  we  were  schoolmates  at  the 
Polytechnic  Institute. 

As  librarian  of  the  Sunday-school  and  one  of  the 
committee  in  charge  of  the  social  meetings  of  the 
young  people,  I  became  intimate  with  Mr.  Sherman 
and  his  family. 

On  December  20,  1870,  the  first  sociable  of  the 
season  was  held  and  I  had  looked  forward  to  it  with 
considerable  interest,  owing  to  the  fact  that  a  niece  of 
Mr.  Sherman,  residing  in  Chicago  and  then  visiting 
him  for  the  winter,  was  to  be  present.  I  had  heard 
the  young  lady  spoken  of  in  such  glowing  terms  that 
I  anticipated  much  pleasure  in  meeting  her. 

When  the  evening  came  and  I  met  Miss  Wilson,  I 
must  confess  I  was  not  deeply  impressed,  and  I  have 
since  learned  that  the  lady,  who  had  heard  much  of 
me  from  her  cousin,  Miss  Sherman,  regarded  me 
with  indifference. 

For  this  time  at  least,  the  saying  that  "first  im- 
pressions go  a  great  way''  was  disproved,  for  two 
weeks  later,  after  returning  from  the  second  socia- 
ble, where  I  again  met  Miss  Wilson,  I  said  to  my 
sister,  whom  I  had  escorted : 

"What  do  you  think  of  Miss  Wilson  ?" 

"A  very  charming  girl,"  she  replied,  and  I  then 
told  her  I  had  lost  my  heart  and  was  determined  to 
win  her  for  my  wife. 

Miss  Wilson  was  of  the  brunette  type.  Her  face, 
surmounted  by  a  mass  of  dark  brown,  silky  hair,  was 


I  Meet  My  Affinity  21 

most  attractive.  A  clear  olive  complexion,  well- 
shaped  nose  and  dainty  ears,  a  bewitching  mouth 
with  fine  teeth,  and  beneath  long  lashes,  large  bril- 
liant eyes.  Her  figure,  neither  tall  nor  short,  was 
finely  proportioned. 

Endowed  with  unusual  common  sense  and  well 
educated  she  was  a  most  interesting  conversational- 
ist, while  her  voice  was  musical  and  well  modulated. 

Why  I  did  not  discover  all  these  charms  on  the 
occasion  of  our  first  meeting  I  never  have  been  able 
to  understand,  unless  it  was  because  our  intercourse 
on  that  evening  was  limited  to  little  more  than  a 
formal  introduction. 

Thereafter,  I  sought  every  possible  opportunity 
for  the  enjoyment  of  Miss  Wilson's  society. 

Our  acquaintance  quickly  grew  into  a  friendship 
which  permitted  almost  daily  intercourse  and  enabled 
me  to  fathom  the  noble  nature  of  the  girl,  and  to 
realize  what  a  blessing  would  be  mine  if  I  could  win 
her  affection. 

A  girl  of  strong  character,  there  was  nothing  of 
the  frivolous  about  her.  In  the  frequent  informal 
social  gatherings  she  was  always  the  life  of  the  occa- 
sion, but  never  did  her  merriment  get  down  to  the 
level  of  silliness.  Without  a  suspicion  of  prudish- 
ness  there  was  always  with  her  the  natural  dignity  of 
the  true-born  gentlewoman. 

Of  course,  it  need  not  be  said  that  Miss  Wilson 
had  many  admirers — altogether  too  many  for  my 
peace  of  mind. 


22  I  Meet  My  Affinity 

When  I  would  get  temporary  relief  by  thinking  I 
was  getting  the  best  of  the  Brooklyn  element,  I 
would  suffer  a  heart-throb  because  of  news  that  some 
flame  left  behind  in  Chicago  was  burning  brighter. 
When  that  would  dim  or  become  extinguished,  de- 
pressing news  would  reach  me  from  West  Point, 
where  Miss  Wilson  visited  her  cousin,  the  wife  of  an 
officer. 

Thus  I  was  kept  guessing  most  of  the  time,  and 
though  I  could  not  but  feel  I  was  steadily  gaining 
my  way  to  the  goal,  I  cannot  say  that  I  did  not  spend 
many  an  anxious  hour  pondering  over  the  other  fel- 
low's chances. 

In  the  early  summer  Miss  Wilson  left  Brooklyn 
for  a  visit  to  relatives  in  Boston. 

A  few  days  later  I  followed  her  to  that  city,  and 
her  pleasure  at  seeing  me  was  so  evident,  her  recep- 
tion so  cordial,  that  I  dismissed  from  my  mind  all 
fear  of  my  rivals  and  determined  to  take  an  early 
opportunity  of  offering  her  my  hand  and  heart. 

How  impatiently  I  awaited  her  return.  The  days 
dragged  along.  I  was  restless  and  unhappy.  We  did 
not  correspond,  so  there  were  no  letters  to  brighten 
the  gloomy  days  of  waiting. 

To  a  small  degree  I  derived  some  comfort  from 
frequent  calls  on  Miss  Sherman,  who  was  good 
enough  to  tell  me  of  her  letters  from  her  cousin  and 
good-natured  enough  to  permit  me  to  spend  most  of 
the  evening  in  talking  about  her.  I  was  certainly 
very  much  in  love,  and  as  is  the  case  with  most 


I  Meet  My  Affinity  23 

young  men  in  that  condition  of  mind,  the  object  of 
my  adoration  was  always  in  my  thoughts. 

All  things  finally  come  to  an  end,  and  early  in  July 
Miss  Wilson  returned  to  Brooklyn.  She  was  to  re- 
main but  a  few  days  before  leaving  for  a  visit  in 
Connecticut. 

In  the  interim  I  felt  I  must  speak,  and  yet  now 
that  the  opportunity  had  arrived,  what  a  mighty 
proposition  it  seemed. 

For  days  and  days  I  had  been  thinking  of  it,  at 
night  I  dreamed  of  it.  It  seemed  so  easy  to  tell  the 
woman  I  loved  that  I  loved  her,  and  yet  when  the 
time  had  come  my  courage  waned.  I  let  day  after 
day  pass  in  spite  of  a  resolution  each  morning  that 
before  sleeping  again  I  would  know  my  fate. 

I  tried  to  reason  with  myself. 

I  knew  that  my  personality  was  not  objectionable. 
I  had  lived  an  absolutely  clean  life,  had  no  vices. 
My  associates  were  of  the  right  kind,  business  pros- 
pects satisfactory.  Why  should  I  hesitate  to  offer  a 
hand  that  was  clean,  a  heart  that  was  pure  to  the 
woman  I  loved?  "I  will  do  it,"  I  said  aloud,  and  I 
did — that  evening. 

It  was  the  evening  of  July  10,  1870. 

The  day  had  been  warm  and  oppressive,  but  after 
sundown  a  pleasant  breeze  cooled  the  air. 

As  I  entered  the  grounds  surrounding  Mr.  Sher- 
man's home  I  stood  for  a  few  moments  beneath  the 
foliage  of  his  fine  old  trees,  inhaling  the  fragrance  of 
the  flowers  blooming  on  the  lawn. 


24  I  Meet  My  Affinity 

My  mind  was  filled  with  a  feeling  of  awe  at  the 
great  responsibility  I  was  about  to  assume. 

I  had  perfect  confidence  in  my  ability  to  care  for 
the  well-being  and  happiness  of  the  object  of  my  af- 
fection. I  knew  my  love  was  sincere  and  lasting,  and 
yet,  when  I  thought  of  all  it  meant,  to  take  a  girl 
from  a  home  in  which  she  was  loved  and  happy,  to 
bind  her  to  me  for  all  time,  to  share  what  might 
come  of  good  or  evil  in  the  uncertainties  of  life,  it 
came  over  me  with  tremendous  force  that  if  this  girl 
should  intrust  her  heart  to  my  keeping,  a  lifetime  of 
devotion  should  be  her  reward. 

The  early  part  of  the  evening  was  passed  in  gen- 
eral conversation  with  the  family,  and  after  a  little 
music  we  were  finally  left  alone. 

The  hour  had  come ! 

At  my  request  Miss  Wilson  sat  at  the  piano  and 
played  a  few  strains  of  an  old  waltz  we  had  been  dis- 
cussing. I  stood  beside  her  while  she  sat  there,  and 
in  tones  trembling  with  the  intensity  of  my  feelings 
I  poured  forth  the  old,  old  story.  I  told  her  of  my 
love  in  such  words  as  I  could  command  in  my  agita- 
tion. 

Then,  while  my  heart  almost  ceased  beating,  Miss 
Wilson  told  me  in  the  kindest  possible  manner  of  her 
appreciation  of  the  offer  and  also  of  her  complete 
surprise.  She  said  that  while  she  esteemed  me 
highly  as  a  friend  and  liked  me  personally  very  much, 
she  had  not  thought  of  me  as  a  lover,  and  that  she 
could  not  regard  me  in  that  light. 


I  Meet  My  Affinity  25 

To  say  that  I  was  crushed  by  the  blow,  kindly  as  it 
had  fallen,  does  not  express  my  feelings.  When, 
however,  in  reply  to  my  question  I  learned  that 
there  was  no  one  else — that  she  was  still  heart  free, 
I  gained  courage;  and  when,  before  I  had  left  her 
that  evening,  she  had  consented  to  leave  the  matter 
open  until  some  future  time,  my  hopes  of  ultimate 
success  were  very  far  from  being  destroyed.,X 


CHAPTER  III 

A  CO-PARTNERSHIP  DISSOLVED 

Before  Mr.  Derham  had  landed  in  England  my 
feeling  of  dislike  for  my  partner  had  increased 
materially. 

His  own  business,  which  had  been  represented  as 
worth  at  least  five  hundred  dollars  per  month  to  the 
firm,  was,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  largely  a  myth. 

He  had  a  habit  of  arriving  at  the  office  at  half-past 
ten  or  eleven  o'clock,  and  leaving  at  three.  By  fre- 
quent demands  on  his  father-in-law  he  kept  himself 
in  funds  to  provide  for  his  extravagant  living,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  his  principal  object  in  coming  to  the 
office  at  all  was  to  meet  various  fast-looking  men 
who  called  there  to  see  him. 

To  cap  the  climax,  he  had  a  half-patronizing,  half- 
nagging  way  of  treating  me  that  I  simply  could  not 
put  up  with.  I  was  doing  all  the  business,  earning 
all  the  money  that  was  made,  and  this  man  was  enti- 
tled to  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  net  results.  I  stood  it  for 
a  few  months,  meanwhile  writing  fully  to  Mr.  Der- 
ham of  the  position  in  which  I  was  placed. 

Finally,  on  the  ioth  of  March,  1871,  when  I  saw 
on  Bulkley's  desk  a  note  for  a  few  hundred  dollars, 
drawn  to  his  own  order  and  signed  by  him  with  the 


A  Co-partnership  Dissolved  27 

firm's  name,  and  in  response  to  my  inquiry  as  to  the 
meaning  of  it,  he  told  me  it  was  a  little  matter  he  was 
putting  through  by  a  friend  for  his  own  accommoda- 
tion, I  cut  the  knot  and  insisted-  on  a  dissolution  of 
our  co-partnership. 

I  had  to  pay  him  a  small  sum  to  get  his  consent, 
and  though  I  had  to  borrow  the  money  to  make  the 
payment,  I  did  so  rather  than  have  any  litigation, 
which  he  threatened. 

It  was  with  a  feeling  of  immense  relief  that  I  went 
to  the  office  the  following  morning,  knowing  that  I 
was  rid  of  the  leaden  weight  which  Mr.  Derham  had 
bound  to  me  in  an  error  of  judgment,  which  he  read- 
ily admitted. 

The  sign  was  removed  and  in  its  place  went  up 
another  bearing  my  name  only. 

Although  in  the  trade  I  enjoyed  a  fair  measure  of 
popularity,  which  is  the  key-note  to  a  broker's  suc- 
cess, I  found  my  youth  a  disadvantage  when  it  came 
to  seeking  important  business. 

The  dealers  hesitated  to  intrust  me  with  the  carry- 
ing out  of  large  contracts,  while  favoring  me  with 
the  smaller  orders.  This  was  a  great  trial  and  I 
could  not  but  feel  it  an  injustice.  Still,  there  was 
nothing  I  could  do  except  to  be  grateful  for  the 
favors  I  received  and  strive  in  every  way  to  demon- 
strate my  ability. 

Another  thing  I  had  to  fight  against  was  the  ques- 
tionable methods  of  a  firm  which  was  my  principal 
competitor. 


28  A  Co-partnership  Dissolved 

Naturally  there  was  a  very  active  effort  made  to 
get  away  from  me  the  old  trade  which  Mr.  Derham 
had  held  well  in  hand  for  many  years.  This  I  had 
expected,  but  I  did  not  count  upon  my  competitor 
waiving  commissions  whenever  we  came  into  a  con- 
test for  business  of  any  importance. 

This  sort  of  competition  I  could  not  meet,  not  only 
as  a  matter  of  principle  based  on  the  idea  that  "the 
laborer  is  worthy  of  his  hire,"  but  because  I  could 
not  afford  to  do  business  for  nothing. 

Despite  the  handicap  of  youth  and  unfair  compe- 
tition, I  kept  steadily  at  work  increasing  the  strength 
of  my  position  where  it  was  already  established,  and 
striving  to  the  utmost  to  get  a  foothold  where  I  had 
not  yet  secured  it. 

At  the  end  of  the  year,  when  the  books  were  bal- 
anced, I  found  that  I  had  made  about  twenty-five 
hundred  dollars,  as  compared  with  twelve  thousand 
dollars  made  by  Mr.  Derham  the  year  previous. 

This  was  most  unsatisfactory  to  me,  for  while  of 
course  it  was  a  much  larger  income  than  I  had  ever 
before  earned,  it  was  so  far  below  my  expectations 
that  I  could  not  but  feel  keen  disappointment. 

Still,  I  knew  that  I  now  possessed  a  business,  and 
as  the  prospects  were  good  I  started  the  new  year 
with  courage  and  the  determination  to  make  a  better 
showing. 

Early  in  the  year  two  incidents  occurred  that  help- 
ed me  immensely. 


A  Co-partnership  Dissolved  29 

The  largest  consumers  in  our  line  were  the  oil 
refiners,  all  of  whom  have  since  been  absorbed  by  the 
Standard  Oil  Company. 

These  concerns  were  heavy  buyers,  and  Mr. 
Thomas  Derham  had  the  preference  on  their  busi- 
ness. From  the  first  I  had  struggled  to  get  a  share 
of  it,  without  having  made  them,  after  a  year  of  con- 
stant effort,  a  single  sale.  Still,  I  made  a  daily  call 
on  each  and  finally  secured  my  first  order. 

It  was  given  to  me  by  Mr.  J.  A.  Bostwick  per- 
sonally, and  the  order  was  so  large  I  could  scarcely 
believe  I  had  captured  it.  This  was  the  entering 
wedge,  and  throughout  the  year,  although  not  get- 
ting more  than  a  very  small  proportion  of  the  busi- 
ness, I  succeeded  in  selling  occasionally  to  all  of  the 
refiners. 

The  other  incident  was  even  more  important  in  its 
results,  for  it  was  the  commencement  of  intimate  re- 
lations with  the  important  firm  which  stood  at  the 
head  of  the  trade. 

This  firm  had  up  to  that  time  shown  a  decided 
favoritism  for  my  chief  competitor,  but  this  feeling 
changed  in  consequence  of  investments  in  a  mining 
stock,  both  by  the  firm  and  by  its  most  active  indi- 
vidual member,  which  they  had  been  led  into  through 
the  influence  of  my  competitor. 

The  investment  proved  disastrous,  resulting  in 
losses  of  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and 
though  this  sum  was  insignificant  to  people  of  such 
large  wealth,  the  feeling  of  bitterness  aroused  was 
most  acute. 


30  A  Co-partnership  Dissolved 

My  competitor  had  for  many  years  as  a  Boston 
correspondent  the  firm  of  W.  B.  Tatnall  &  Company, 
and  through  it  a  large  business  was  done  with  the 
Boston  dealers ;  but  the  most  important  phase  of  this 
connection  was  the  fact  that  Tatnall  controlled  the 
selling  of  a  certain  commodity  imported  in  large 
quantities  by  a  Boston  firm,  and  of  which  the  leading 
firm  in  New  York  was  the  largest  buyer. 

Tatnall  &  Company  had  severed  abruptly  its  con- 
nection with  my  competitor,  and  without  my  solicita- 
tion made  me  a  proposition  which  I  promptly 
accepted.  The  competing  firm  immediately  estab- 
lished in  Boston  as  its  correspondent  a  brother  of  the 
senior*  partner. 

The  first  battle  for  supremacy  came  over  the  sale 
of  a  cargo  due  to  arrive  at  Boston  by  a  sailing  vessel. 
This  was  before  the  days  of  the  telephone,  and 
numerous  telegrams  passed  between  us  before  the 
transaction  was  closed. 

When  the  final  message  confirming  the  sale  reach- 
ed me,  it  read  as  follows :  "Closed,  contracts  coming, 
competitors  conquered,  congratulations,  cocktails, 
cigars,  careful  contemplation." 

In  a  feeling  of  exuberance  Tatnall  had  written  this 
telegram,  and  by  his  closing  words  meant  me  to 
remember  that  "one  swallow  does  not  make  a  sum- 
mer" and  that  over-confidence  on  the  occasion  of  a 
first  success  would  be  unwise. 

Mr.  W.  B.  Tatnall  came  to  New  York  a  few  day- 
later.     It  was  our  first  meeting  and  I  found  him  a 


A  Co-partnership  Dissolved  31 

delightful  man,  a  typical  Bostonian.  He  was  highly 
cultured,  well  up  in  art,  and  a  book-collector  of  some 
repute. 

I  recall  one  little  incident  of  his  visit  which  amused 
me  greatly.  The  weather  was  very  stormy  and  his 
salutation  on  greeting  me  was,  "Good-morning,  Mr. 
Stowe;  fine  day  for  birds  of  an  aquatic  nature." 

We  called  on  all  the  trade,  and  in  every  office  he 
made  the  same  remark.  Before  the  day  was  over  I 
concluded  I  was  not  likely  ever  to  forget  that  rain 
makes  "a  fine  dav  for  ducks. 'H 


CHAPTER  IV 

AND  THE  ANSWER  WAS  "YES" 

Although  when  I  left  Miss  Wilson  on  that  evening 
in  July  it  was  not  as  an  accepted  lover,  as  I  had 
brought  myself  to  believe  it  would  be,  and  my  disap- 
pointment was  overwhelming  that  such  was  the  case, 
my  heart  told  me  that  all  was  not  lost. 

She  had  admitted  that  she  admired  and  respected 
me  more  than  any  other  man  of  her  acquaintance, 
while  she  did  not  feel  the  love  for  me  that  a  woman 
should  give  to  the  man  she  marries. 

This  admission  I  deemed  a  great  point  gained. 

With  a  field  cleared  of  rivals,  it  only  remained  to 
transform  her  admiration  and  respect  into  love. 
How  to  do  that  was  for  me  to  find  out.  That  it 
could  be  done  I  felt  reasonably  certain. 

It  was  my  first  love-affair,  hence  I  was  an  amateur 
in  such  matters.  This  I  knew  was  a  point  in  my 
favor,  as  Miss  Wilson  was  not  the  sort  of  girl  to 
admire  a  man  who  had  a  habit  of  falling  in  love  with 
every  pretty  face.  Life  in  her  eyes  had  its  serious 
side  and  she  was  well  equipped  mentally  to  test  the 
true  ring  of  those  with  whom  she  came  in  contact. 

The  following  day  I  wrote  Miss  Wilson  at  length, 
reiterating  and  enlarging  on  all  that  I  had  said,  tell- 


And  the  Answer  was  "Yes"  33 

ing  her  I  would  wait  until  she  felt  she  could  give  me 
a  definite  answer,  and  begging  her  not  to  hasten  her 
decision  if  it  was  to  be  negative. 

If  I  had  any  fear  at  all  it  was  on  this  point — that 
she  might  feel  it  imperative  to  decide  the  matter 
promptly,  while  I  was  prepared  to  wait,  years  if 
necessary,  rather  than  to  take  from  those  lips  which 
I  so  eagerly  longed  to  press  to  mine  own  in  love's 
first  caress,  the  relentless,  cruel — no. 

Miss  Wilson's  contemplated  visit  to  Connecticut 
was  postponed  for  a  while  and  this  gave  me  an  op- 
portunity to  see  her  daily. 

That  I  laid  vigorous  siege  to  her  heart  was  certain. 
I  was  most  assiduous  in  all  those  little  attentions  that 
please  a  woman,  and  as  our  tastes  were  entirely  con- 
genial our  hours  of  companionship  were  delightful 
to  both. 

If  I  were  a  few  minutes  late  in  making  my  even- 
ing call,  very  rarely  the  case,  she  would  remark  it, 
and  I  soon  realized  that  the  feature  of  her  day  was 
the  hours  passed  with  me.  In  fact,  my  presence  was 
becoming  necessary  to  her  happiness. 

As  soon  as  this  impression  became  fixed  in  my 
mind,  I  grew  impatient  at  delay  in  the  culmination 
of  my  desires,  and  felt  I  must  soon  urge  Miss  Wilson 
to  relieve  me  of  suspense  by  making  me  the  happiest 
of  men.  Probably  I  should  have  done  this  within  a 
few  days  had  it  not  been  for  the  fact  that  she  left 
Brooklyn  on  her  visit  to  Middletown,  Connecticut. 
Then  I  decided  to  await  her  return. 


34  And  the  Answer  was  "Yes" 

On  the  morning  of  the  sixth  of  September  I  found 
in  my  mail  at  the  office  an  envelope  addressed  in  a 
lady's  handwriting,  postmarked  Middletown,  Con- 
necticut. 

It  contained  a  brief  note  from  Miss  Wilson,  stating 
that  on  that  day  at  one  o'clock  she  would  be  due  at 
New  York  and  was  going  at  once  for  a  week  at  West 
Point,  and  asked  me,  if  convenient,  to  meet  her  at  the 
railroad  station  to  escort  her  across  the  city  to  the 
boat. 

There  were  three  significant  points  in  that  note, 
the  first  I  had  ever  received  from  her. 

First,  it  commenced  with  "Dear  Walter."  Always 
before  I  had  been  Mr.  Stowe.  Next,  it  was  signed 
as  "Yours,  with  love" ;  and  last,  but  by  no  means 
least,  Miss  Wilson  wrote,  as  a  postscript,  "I  shall  be 
alone." 

Would  it  be  convenient  for  me  to  meet  that  train  ? 
I  should  say  so. 

I  was  at  the  station  with  a  carriage  at  least  half  an 
hour  ahead  of  time  and  I  walked  the  platform  of  the 
old  Twenty-seventh  Street  station  of  the  New  York, 
New  Haven  and  Hartford  Railroad  Company,  back 
and  forth,  looking  at  my  watch  every  five  minutes 
and  wondering  if  that  train  would  ever  come. 

The  train  arrived  on  time,  and  as  Miss  Wilson 
alighted  from  the  car,  I  greeted  her.  How  I  gazed 
into  those  beautiful  eyes  and  tried  to  read  there  the 
love  I  hungered  for. 

We  drove  to  the  Hotel  Brunswick  for  luncheon, 
and  if  "the  proof  of  the  pudding  is  in  the  eating," 


And  the  Answer  was  "Yes"  35 

the  luncheon,  despite  the  good  reputation  of  that  old 
hostelry,  then  in  its  palmy  days,  must  have  been  a 
poor  one.  Either  that,  or  we  lacked  appetite — more 
likely  the  latter. 

After  luncheon  we  again  took  the  carriage,  and 
drove  to  the  pier  where  the  Mary  Powell  was  await- 
ing her  passengers. 

It  was  during  that  drive,  while  passing  down  Fifth 
Avenue,  that  the  word  I  so  longed  to  hear  was 
spoken.  "Yes" — only  a  single  word  and  yet  it  spoke 
volumes  to  my  heart.  It  bound  together  for  all  time 
two  beings,  neither  of  whom  had  known  for  longer 
than  a  few  months  even  of  the  existence  of  the  other, 
and  yet  a  divine  power  had  brought  these  two  hearts, 
beating  in  unison,  to  their  natural  mate.  While  the 
lips  whispered  "yes>"  the  hand  found  its  way  to  mine 
and  the  loving  clasp  was  the  only  demonstration  the 
surroundings  permitted ;  but  when  the  carriage  had 
turned  into  a  comparatively  quiet  side  street  and  just 
before  it  reached  the  pier,  I  could  no  longer  refrain. 

Drawing  the  curtains  at  the  carriage  windows,  I 
clasped  to  my  heart  the  lovely  girl  who  was  now  my 
very  own. 

Oh,  what  an  ecstasy  of  bliss  that  moment  was ! 

I  have  owned  many  handsome  carriages,  luxurious 
in  their  appointments,  drawn  by  fine  horses,  but  as 
I  look  back  to  that  day  of  days,  that  shabby  public 
hack,  with  its  rough-looking  driver,  holding  the 
reins  over  a  pair  of  ill-fed  animals,  stands  in  my 
memory  as  almost  ideal. 


36  And  the  Answer  was  "Yes" 

Of  course  I  did  not  leave  my  promised  wife  at  the 
boat.  There  was  no  reason  I  should  not  take  that 
delightful  sail  up  the  river  with  her,  and  there  was 
every  reason  why  I  should.  I  sought  out  a  secluded 
spot  on  deck  and  there,  comparatively  free  from 
observation,  we  let  our  thoughts  revel  in  our  new- 
found happiness. 

It  was  possible,  unseen,  to  occasionally  clasp  each 
other's  hand,  and  in  this  way  a  sort  of  lovers'  wire- 
less telegraph  kept  us  in  communication  that  empha- 
sized to  me  the  fact  that  my  happiness  was  real  and 
not  a  dream. 

Our  conversation  was  not  very  animated;  we 
were  too  happy  to  talk,  and  the  beautiful  scenery  of 
the  Hudson  was  lost  to  us  on  that  occasion. 

To  look  into  each  other's  eyes  and  read  there  all 
that  was  in  our  hearts  was  the  supreme  pleasure  and 
happiness  of  the  moment. 

When  the  boat  arrived  at  West  Point,  Lieutenant 
Harper,  then  Professor  of  Spanish  at  the  Academy, 
afterwards  major,  and  since  promoted  to  colonel  for 
gallantry  in  the  Philippines,  met  Miss  Wilson  at  the 
landing. 

I  had  planned  to  at  once  take  the  ferry  across  the 
river — there  was  no  West  Shore  Railroad  at  that 
time — and  return  to  New  York  by  train,  but  Lieu- 
tenant Harper  insisted  that  I  should  dine  with  them 
and  take  a  later  train,  which  I  did. 

Of  course  the,  to  us,  great  incident  of  the  day  was 
unknown  to  Miss  Wilson's  friends,  and  she  did  not 
enlighten  them  until  after  I  had  gone. 


And  the  Answer  was  "Yes"  37 

The  two  or  three  hours  spent  with  Lieutenant 
Harper's  family,  while  I  was  supposed  to  be  simply 
a  friend  of  Miss  Wilson,  passed  quickly.  I  had 
hoped  to  be  able  on  leaving  to  see  her  alone  for  at 
least  a  few  moments,  but  in  this  I  was  disappointed, 
and  while  the  clasp  of  her  hand  and  the  expression 
of  her  eyes  conveyed  a  great  deal  to  me,  our  parting 
that  evening  was  in  its  details  most  unsatisfactory 
from  a  lover's  point  of  view. 

During  that  first  week  of  our  engagement,  while 
separated,  we  corresponded  daily,  and  the  rejoicing 
was  mutual  when,  her  visit  ended,  Miss  Wilson 
returned  to  Brooklyn. 

Then  for  two  short  weeks  I  enjoyed  to  the  full 
the  privileges  and  delights  of  an  accepted  lover. 
What  visions  of  future  happiness  those  two  weeks  of 
close  companionship  opened  to  my  eyes !  The  refine- 
ment and  natural  dignity  of  the  woman  made  her 
caresses  of  exquisite  daintiness  and  tenderness. 
Spontaneously  and  absolutely  without  a  suggestion 
of  affectation  her  love  was  poured  out  generously  to 
the  man  who  had  won  her  heart,  and  each  evening 
it  seemed  as  if  my  affection  had  increased  a  thousand 
fold. 

Oh,  what  a  wonderful  thing  is  pure  love !  What 
would  the  world  be  without  it  ? 

The  day  of  our  parting  was  drawing  nigh. 

At  the  end  of  September  Miss  Wilson  was  to 
return  to  her  home  in  Chicago.  A  month  later  I 
was  to  visit  her  there,  but  the  thought  of  that  month 
of  separation  so  soon  after  we  had  become  engaged 


38  And  the  Answer  was  "Yes" 

saddened  us  and  our  hearts  dreaded  the  ordeal. 
Still,  come  it  did,  and  as  I  watched  the  train  pull  out 
of  the  station,  carrying  with  it  all  that  I  loved  best 
in  the  world,  I  felt  a  wrench  at  my  heartstrings  and 
a  loneliness  that  was  inexpressible. 

For  a  month  I  consoled  myself  as  best  I  could  with 
the  letters  which  reached  me  almost  daily  and  always 
brought  me  happiness. 

Then  I  turned  my  face  westward. 

Miss  Wilson's  father  had  been  dead  for  many 
years.  She,  with  her  mother,  resided  with  her  mar- 
ried sister,  the  wife  of  a  general  in  the  army  during 
the  war,  and  at  the  time  of  which  I  write,  judge  of 
the  Probate  Court.  Until  his  death,  a  few  years  ago, 
he  was  one  of  Chicago's  best  known  and  most  highly 
respected  citizens. 

As  the  relatives  approved  of  our  engagement,  my 
reception  by  the  family  was  all  that  could  be  desired. 
As  to  my  reception  by  Miss  Wilson,  I  think  it  safe 
to  leave  it  to  the  imagination  of  my  readers.  It  was 
entirely  satisfactory  to  me. 

My  visit  was  of  necessity  a  short  one.  For  though 
I  was  not  again  to  see  Miss  Wilson  until  the  time  of 
our  marriage,  a  full  year  away,  I  had  to  return  to 
New  York  after  a  few  days  and  look  after  my 
business  interests,  which  required  constant  personal 
attention. 

The  days  of  my  visit  flew  speedily,  and  back  in 
New  York  I  settled  down  to  business  with  increased 
ambition  and  the  greatest  possible  incentive  to 
achieve  success.  >C^ 


3f 


CHAPTER  V 

WEDDING    BELLS 

The  year  in  which  the  days  had  been  as  weeks,  the 
weeks  as  months,  had  finally  come  to  an  end,  and  at 
six  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  Saturday,  October  19, 
1872,  I  started  on  my  thirty-six  hours'  journey  to 
Chicago. 

There  was  no  "Twentieth  Century  Limited," 
making  the  trip  in  twenty  hours,  in  those  days,  and 
my  two  nights  and  a  day  on  the  road  gave  me  ample 
time  for  contemplation,  which  I  was  in  a  mood  to 
avail  myself  of.  I  felt  all  the  eagerness  of  youth, 
the  power  of  a  love  that  stirred  my  whole  being,  and 
was  impressed  with  the  solemnity  of  the  obligation 
I  was  about  to  incur. 

The  life  of  a  lovely  woman  was  to  be  intrusted  to 
me,  to  make  or  to  mar  according  as  I  did  my  duty. 

I  passed  many  hours,  as  the  train  rolled  on,  mile 
after  mile,  mentally  reviewing  the  past,  looking  at 
the  present,  and  planning  for  the  future. 

My  year  of  correspondence  with  my  wife-to-be 
had  increased  the  strength  of  my  affection,  and  to  its 
growth  there  seemed  no  end.  In  a  worldly  way  I 
had  prospered,  accumulating  five  thousand  dollars, 
while  my  income  from  my  business  was,  so  far  as  I 


40  Wedding  Bells 

could  see,  making  a  steady  and  gratifying  increase. 
My  health  was  perfect,  I  had  not  a  care  in  the  world, 
and  when  I  arrived  in  Chicago  Monday  morning  my 
happiness  was  complete.  No,  not  quite;  but  it  was 
a  few  minutes  later  when  I  arrived  at  the  home  of 
my  bride  on  Michigan  avenue. 

I  remained  a  guest  there  until  Tuesday,  and  then 
visited  my  married  sister,  who  resided  in  a  suburb 
of  Chicago. 

Wednesday  was  one  of  those  glorious  October 
days  when,  with  a  clear  sky,  the  temperature  is  low 
enough  to  make  the  air  bracing  without  being  too 
cold.  I  was  at  the  Michigan  avenue  home  early, 
and  after  a  few  minutes  with  Miss  Wilson,  walking 
through  the  rooms,  admiring  the  floral  decorations, 
I  was  deserted,  and  felt  myself  for  the  time  being  as 
rather  "a  fifth  wheel  to  a  coach.,, 

The  bride  was  in  the  hands  of  her  girl  friends, 
everybody  was  busy  with  the  final  preparations,  and 
I  wandered  around,  wishing  that  the  agony  was 
over  and  I  had  my  wife  to  myself. 

At  last  the  hour  arrived. 

Preceded  by  Miss  Wilson's  little  nieces  as  flower- 
girls  we  entered  the  crowded  rooms,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  clergyman  had  pronounced  us  man  and 
wife. 

As  I  am  not  writing  for  a  society  paper  or  fashion 
journal,  I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  the  gown  worn 
by  the  bride.    It  was  very  handsome,  no  doubt. 

But  the  woman  who  wore  it !  Ah,  there  was  a 
subject  for  the  pen  of  a  poet,  the  brush  of  an  artist. 


Wedding  Bells  41 

Certainly  I  have  never  seen  any  creature  half  so 
lovely ;  and  as  I  looked  into  those  eyes,  beaming  with 
love,  trust,  confidence, — everything  that  a  noble 
woman  could  give  to  the  man  she  loved, — I  thanked 
my  God  for  the  inestimable  blessing  He  had  bestow- 
ed upon  me. 

I  have  made  many  mistakes  in  my  life,  most  men 
have,  and  I  have  done  many  things  the  wisdom  of 
which  was  afterwards  proven;  but  as  I  write  these 
lines,  looking  back  over  more  than  thirty-two  years 
of  married  life,  I  know  that  my  marriage  is  the  one 
act  of  my  whole  career  that  stands  preeminent  as  the 
wisest  and  best  thing  that  I  have  ever  done. 

In  all  these  years  my  wife  and  I  have  been  as  one. 
In  days  of  prosperity  she  rejoiced  with  me,  in  times 
of  adversity  and  bitter  trials  she  has  stood  nobly  by 
me,  always  with  absolute  faith  in  and  unswerving 
loyalty  to  the  man  to  whom  she  gave  her  heart. 

Her  love,  courage,  and  cheerfulness  have  been  the 
mainstays  which  supported  me  when  I  would  have 
fallen  by  the  wayside,  and  her  sweet  companionship 
and  keen  appreciation  of  refined  pleasures  have  added 
immeasurably  to  my  enjoyment  and  happiness. 

After  a  two-hour  reception  we  donned  our  travel- 
ing garb  and  made  a  race  for  the  carriage,  submit- 
ting good-naturedly  to  the  usual  shower  of  rice  and 
slippers. 

We  were  to  take  the  five  o'clock  train  going  East, 
and  the  Judge  rode  with  us  to  the  station.  When  the 
last  farewell  had  been  said  while  standing  on  the 
platform  of  the  car  as  the  train  pulled  out  from  the 


42  Wedding  Bells 

station,  we  sought  our  drawing-room  in  the  Pull- 
man, and  closing  the  door  I  clasped  my  wife  to  my 
heart. 

It  was  the  first  moment  we  had  been  alone  since 
the  ceremony. 

Our  wedding-trip  was  necessarily  brief,  as  I  had 
to  get  back  to  my  business ;  so  after  a  day  or  two 
each  at  Toledo  and  Albany,  the  early  part  of  the  fol- 
lowing week  found  us  in  New  York. 

Like  all  young  people  on  their  wedding-trip,  we 
tried  to  fool  the  public  into  believing  that  we  were 
not  bride  and  groom ;  but  I  have  no  doubt  that  if  we 
fooled  anybody,  that  individual  must  have  been  very 
nearsighted  and  minus  eye-glasses. 

My  wife  possibly  maintained  her  dignity,  but  I 
fear  I  was  too  happy  to  be  suppressed. 

I  remember  well  the  peculiar  way  in  which  the 
clerk  at  the  Boody  House,  Toledo,  looked  at  me 
when  I  registered.  As  I  was  not  yet  twenty-two 
years  of  age  I  could  hardly  have  expected  him  to 
take  us  for  "old  married  folks." 

Before  leaving  for  Chicago  I  had  engaged  an 
apartment  and  board  with  a  very  pleasant  and  refin- 
ed family  in  Fort  Greene  Place,  Brooklyn,  and  it  was 
there  we  commenced  our  married  life. 

It  was  my  custom  to  walk  to  Wall  Street  Ferry 
each  morning  on  my  way  to  the  office,  and  whenever 
the  weather  was  suitable  my  wife  accompanied  me 
to  within  a  block  or  two  of  the  ferry. 

In  the  afternoon  I  was  always  home  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment. 


Wedding  Bells  43 

I  begrudged  every  hour  that  we  were  parted. 

Each  day  I  discovered  something  new  to  admire, 
some  trait  of  character,  some  mental  attribute,  or  a 
dainty  mannerism  that  was  simply  captivating. 

Thus  were  our  lives  developing  day  after  day. 

In  the  evenings  we  had  frequent  callers,  and  while 
I  was  always  the  gracious  host  to  my  friends,  I  was 
selfish  enough  to  wish,  at  times,  that  we  could  live 
on  an  island  by  ourselves,  where  we  could  remain 
undisturbed. 

It  is  said  "there  is  nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life,  as 
love's  young  dream."  I  have  found  something  far 
sweeter,  as  this  narrative  in  its  natural  progression 
will  develop;  but  those  were  my  days  of  "love's 
young  dream." 

I  was  proud  of  my  wife,  proud  of  the  admiration 
she  commanded  from  our  friends,  but  I  wanted  her 
all  to  myself. 

Our  Sundays  were  looked  forward  to  with  eager- 
ness. We  attended  church  service  in  the  morning, 
and  the  afternoons  were  passed  in  our  apartment  in 
delightful  intercourse. 

There  was  never  a  dull  moment. 

Sunday  evening  supper,  which  to  me  has  always 
been  a  most  attractive  meal,  was  usually  taken  either 
with  my  family  or  at  Mr.  Sherman's.  Occasionally 
we  would  attend  an  evening  service,  but  as  a  rule 
we  would  get  home  early  and  have  a  few  hours  to 
ourselves. 


44  Wedding  Bells 

Our  year  of  separation  while  engaged  had  to  be 
atoned  for. 

We  were  lovers  the  first  year  of  our  wedded  life, 
and  after  all  these  years  we  are,  no  less  ardently, 
lovers  still. 


*,* 


CHAPTER  VI 

A    FIRST    REVERSE   OF    FORTUNE 

The  Christmas  holidays  of  1872  were  at  hand 
and  I  was  in  full  spirit  with  the  festivities  of  the 
season. 

My  home  life  was  a  constant  revelation  of  delight 
and  happiness. 

The  income  from  my  business  had  increased  to 
double  that  of  the  previous  year,  and  the  future 
looked  bright  indeed. 

Just  at  this  time  came  to  me  in  an  evil  hour  a 
temptation  to  which  I  yielded,  and  I  have  always 
wondered  how,  under  all  the  conditions  then  exist- 
ing, I  could  have  been  so  weak. 

My  accumulations  had  not  been  invested,  and  as 
I  had  in  my  business  no  use  for  capital,  the  money 
remained  idle  in  bank. 

Crossing  the  ferry  one  morning  I  was  joined  by 
a  friend  in  the  employ  of  a  Stock  Exchange  firm, 
then  well  known,  but  since  retired  from  business. 

I  had  been  thinking  of  an  investment  and  spoke 
to  him  on  the  subject,  telling  him  the  amount  of 
money  I  had  to  invest.  I  had  in  mind  the  buying 
of  some  good  bonds. 


46  A  First  Reverse  of  Fortune 

•  My  friend,  who  was  a  most  plausible  talker,  had, 
I  understood,  made  considerable  money  in  Wall 
Street,  and  when  he  told  me  of  a  movement  in 
certain  stocks  then  being  manipulated  for  a  rise, 
through  his  office,  I  was  at  first  interested  and  then 
carried  away  with  the  desire  to  enter  what  seemed 
such  an  easy  road  to  wealth. 

He  told  me  of  several  instances  where  the  invest- 
ment of  a  few  thousands  had  resulted  in  enormous 
profits.  These  stories  usually  get  to  public  knowl- 
edge one  way  or  another,  but  the  other  side,  the 
vastly  greater  number  of  cases  where  ruin  and  often 
worse  follows,  one  does  not  hear  so  much  of. 

Before  I  went  home  that  day  I  had  bought  five 
hundred  shares  of  stock  and  had  deposited  as  a 
margin  five  thousand  dollars.  I  was  told  that  the 
margin  would  surely  be  ample  to  carry  the  stock 
through  any  possible  fluctuations,  that  I  was  not 
to  feel  alarmed  if  I  saw  the  price  go  off  a  point 
or  two,  and  that  I  was  certain  to  see  a  twenty-point 
rise  within  a  few  weeks. 

On  my  way  home  that  afternoon  I,  for  the  first 
time  in  my  life,  read  in  the  paper  closing  prices  at 
the  Stock  Exchange,  before  reading  anything  else. 

My  stock  was  up  half  a  point  above  the  price  I 
paid  and  I  experienced  a  feeling  of  jubilation  that 
was  very  pleasant.  I  saw  in  my  mind  my  five 
thousand  dollars  transformed  into  fifteen  thousand. 

It  was  great ! 


A  First  Reverse  of  Fortune  47 

At  first  I  thought  I  would  tell  my  wife  about  it, 
then  decided  not  to  do  so,  but  to  wait  and  surprise 
her  with  the  good  news  when  the  money  was  made. 

Fatal  mistake. 

Had  I  told  my  wife,  as  I  should  have  done,  she 
would  surely  have  advised  me  to  sell  out  the  first 
thing  the  following  morning  and  to  let  speculation 
entirely  alone. 

The  following  day  the  price  receded  a  full  point. 
Then,  for  a  week,  without  any  reaction,  I  watched 
it  decline  daily,  by  fractions,  until  my  margin  was 
more  than  half  exhausted. 

My  wife  readily  discovered  there  was  something 
worrying  me,  though  I  tried  to  conceal  it,  and  in 
her  sweet,  loving  way  urged  me  to  tell  her  of  my 
trouble.  I  put  her  off  from  day  to  day,  hoping 
for  a  change  for  the  better. 

Finally,  when  the  price  of  the  stock  had  reached 
a  point  where  there  was  hardly  anything  left  of  my 
five  thousand  dollars,  the  brokers  notified  me  I  must 
make  a  further  deposit  or  they  would  have  to  sell 
me  out.  I  could  have  borrowed  the  money,  but  I 
would  not  do  it,  so  the  transaction  was  closed  and 
my  money  lost. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  which  only  goes  to  show  what 
seems  to  the  small  speculator  the  infernal  ingenuity 
of  the  stock  market,  the  stock  reacted  almost  imme- 
diately after  I  sold,  and  had  I  held  on  for  another 
two  or  three  weeks,  not  only  would  I  have  saved  my 
money,  but  would  have  made  in  addition  a  very 
handsome  profit. 


48  A  First  Reverse  of  Fortune 

Well,  the  money  was  gone — and  now  came  the 
hardest  part  of  it.  I  had  to  tell  my  wife.  I  felt 
that  I  had  wronged  her  confidence  in  not  telling 
her  from  the  first,  and  this  feeling  hurt  me  far  more 
than  the  loss  of  the  money. 

After  dinner  that  evening,  fortunately  we  were 
spared  from  callers,  sitting  on  the  lounge  with  my 
arm  around  her,  I  told  her  all.  How  practically 
all  I  had  in  the  world  was  gone,  through  an  act  of 
foolishness  I  should  never  have  committed. 

Then  I  told  her  of  the  feeling  that  overwhelmed 
me  because  I  had  not  informed  her  of  the  matter 
from  the  first.  While  I  talked,  her  little  hand  sought 
mine  and  from  the  frequent  pressure  I  knew  she 
was  listening  with  a  heart  full  of  loving  sympathy. 

When  I  had  finished  she  raised  her  head,  and 
after  kissing  me  fondly,  said  with  a  glorious  smile : 

"Why,  my  darling,  is  that  all?  I  thought  it 
was  something  terrible.  What  do  we  care  for  the 
loss  of  a  little  money?  We  have  each  other  and 
our  love.     That  is  everything." 

Then  in  the  sunshine  of  that  love  my  naturally 
good  spirits  returned  and  my  trouble  was  forgotten 
in  the  joy  over  this  new  insight  into  the  character 
of  my  wife. 

With  determination  I  resolved  that  I  would  de- 
vote myself  closer  than  ever  to  my  business,  and  set 
for  myself  the  task  of  accumulating  another  five 
thousand  dollars  within  a  vear. 


A  First  Reverse  of  Fortune  49 

During  1872  I  had  made  about  seven  thousand 
dollars,  but  now  nearly  five  thousand  dollars  was 
represented  by  experience. 

The  other  fellow  had  the  money. 

The  holidays  had  come  and  gone.  We  enjoyed 
them  in  spite  of  our  recent  reverse. 

We  did  not  spend  very  much  money,  though  we 
had  just  as  good  a  time  as  if  we  had  done  so. 
I  had  entirely  recovered  my  mental  equilibrium 
and  had  put  out  of  my  mind  all  thought  of  my  finan- 
cial loss. 

Life  was  moving  on  in  the  same  delightful  chan- 
nel. Love  was  our  bark,  and  we  sailed  smoothly, 
as  on  a  summer  sea. 

My  business  during  the  early  months  of  the  year 
was  good,  but  in  April  signs  were  not  wanting  of 
a  general  falling  off  in  the  commerce  of  the  entire 
country. 

My  trade  began  to  feel  the  effect  of  the  approach- 
ing "hard  times."  This  did  not  disturb  me  at  first, 
for  I  did  not  think  it  would  last  long,  and  in  any 
event  thought  I  could  safely  count  on  at  least  as 
good  a  business  as  in  the  year  previous. 

At  this  period  it  became  evident  to  me  that  my 
father  was  breaking  down,  and  that  while  he  might 
accomplish  a  little  toward  the  support  of  his  family, 
it  was  not  to  be  depended  on,  and  the  burden  must 
rest  on  me. 

It  came  at  a  bad  time,  but  I  accepted  it  as  a  duty 
which  it  was  my  pleasure  to  perform  so  far  as  I  was 
able. 


50  A  First  Reverse  of  Fortune 

Under  these  conditions  we  decided  to  give  up  our 
apartment  and  take  up  our  residence  with  my  par- 
ents. They,  as  also  my  sisters,  were  very  fond  of 
my  wife  and  she  of  them,  while  I  was  always,  from 
infancy,  accused  of  being  the  pet  of  the  family. 

As  the  summer  months  progressed  I  realized  that 
beyond  a  doubt  the  hard  times  were  upon  us.  My 
customers  were  buying  nothing  and  complaining 
there  was  not  enough  business  doing  to  use  up  the 
stock  of  material  they  had  on  hand. 

My  savings  of  the  first  quarter  of  the  year  began 
to  dwindle  and  in  those  days  I  thought  often  with 
regret  of  my  lost  five  thousand  dollars. 

My  wife,  always  the  same  bright,  cheerful,  loving 
woman,  encouraged  me  to  keep  up  my  spirits,  and 
I  did,  for  her  sake  as  well  as  my  own.v^ 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   COMING   OF   THE   STORK 

By  the  first  of  November  I  had  exhausted  all 
my  savings,  and  from  then  on  knew  that  if  my 
monthly  earnings  were  insufficient  to  pay  my  expen- 
ses, I  should  have  to  resort  to  borrowing  money 
to  tide  me  over  until  better  times. 

A  crisis  was  coming  at  home  that  demanded  every 
effort  of  mine  to  have  matters  there  pleasant  and 
comfortable.  Under  no  circumstances  must  my  wife 
worry. 

Thus  I  thought,  but  even  yet  I  did  not  know  the 
magnificent  courage  of  the  woman. 

Each  evening  when  I  returned  home  she  greeted 
me  with  the  brightest  of  smiles,  and  as  soon  as  din- 
ner was  over,  in  our  own  room,  with  my  arms 
around  her,  she  insisted  on  knowing  the  history  of 
the  day  in  detail. 

She  grasped  the  situation  thoroughly,  caressed 
and  encouraged  me,  always  asserting  that  every- 
thing would  come  out  right  in  the  end.  She  had 
no  fear  and  did  not  worry. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  November  our  child  was 
born. 


52  The  Coming  of  the  Stork 

A  boy  physically  perfect.  That  his  lungs  were 
all  right  I  personally  could  swear  to,  and  what  sweet 
music  his  crying  was  to  my  ears  when  first  I  heard  it. 

A  little  later  I  was  permitted  to  enter  the  room, 
and  did  so  in  great  agitation. 

As  I  kissed  my  wife  and  held  her  hand  a  few 
minutes,  on  her  face,  more  lovely  than  ever  in  her 
motherhood,  was  the  same  sweet  smile  and  an  expres- 
sion of  devotion  and  love  eternal.  I  looked  at  the 
boy,  the  new  rivet  in  the  chain  of  love  that  bound 
us  together,  and  then,  after  another  kiss,  went  quietly 
from  the  room. 

Heroes,  ancient  and  modern,  the  world  has  devel- 
oped. Heroines  also  have  their  place  in  history, 
but  the  heroism  of  a  woman  in  ordinary  life,  in  trials 
physical  and  mental,  is  something  to  be  regarded 
with  awe  and  reverence. 

Our  wives !    Our  mothers !    Heroines,  all. 

The  mother  recovered  quickly  her  normal  state  of 
health  and  the  boy  thrived  and  grew  rapidly. 

In  March,  1874,  I  was  greatly  encouraged  by  a 
slight  improvement  in  business.  I  had  been  through 
a  terribly  hard  winter,  and  with  the  burden  of  the 
household  on  my  shoulders  had  only  just  succeeded, 
by  the  utmost  prudence,  in  making  both  ends  meet. 
With  absolutely  no  surplus  I  could  not  but  feel 
uneasy  most  of  the  time. 

It  was  while  this  was  the  condition  of  my  finances 
that  my  most  intimate  friend,  the  son  of  a  man 
of  some  means,  approached  me  on  the  subject  of 


The  Coming  of  the  Stork  53 

getting  his  brother,  then  in  Europe,  but  soon  to 
return,  into  business. 

I  knew  his  brother,  but  not  intimately.  I  thought 
he  might  make  a  good  business  man,  and  it  occurred 
to  me  that  if  he  was  a  hard  worker  and  his  father 
was  willing  to  buy  him  an  interest  in  my  business, 
I  might  get  efficient  aid  to  my  efforts  and  at  the 
same  time  get  a  cash  surplus  to  relieve  my  mind  of 
financial  worry,  which  I  knew  to  be  very  desirable; 
for  a  man  who  has  to  worry  about  the  small  expenses 
of  living  can  never  do  himself  full  justice  in  his 
business  efforts. 

Another  point  that  induced  me  to  consider  the 
matter  was  the  desire  of  my  wife  and  myself  to  go 
to  housekeeping. 

The  relations  with  my  parents  and  sisters  were 
most  pleasant,  but  now  that  we  had  our  boy  we 
felt  anxious  to  set  up  a  modest  little  establishment 
of  our  own,  and  indeed  my  mother  advised  it,  though 
she  was  sorry  to  have  us  leave  her. 

After  several  interviews  with  Mr.  Allis  we  came 
to  an  agreement  that  as  soon  as  his  son  Thomas 
arrived  from  Europe  I  was  to  take  him  into  part- 
nership on  equal  terms  and  he  was  to  pay  me  a  bonus 
of  three  thousand  dollars. 

A  couple  of  weeks  later  my  sign  again  came  down 
aiid  a  new  one  went  up,  reading  W.  E.  Stowe  &  Co. 

With  three  thousand  dollars  in  the  bank  my  mind 
was  again  at  ease  and  we  immediately  looked  for  our 
new  home. 


54  The  Coming  of  the  Stork 

We  were  offered  a  very  prettily  furnished,  nicely 
located  house,  a  few  blocks  from  my  mother's,  for 
the  summer  at  a  very  low  rent.  We  decided  to  take 
it  and  not  look  up  a  permanent  home  until  fall. 

Our  housekeeping  that  summer  was  a  delightful 
experience  and  we  knew  we  should  never  again  be 
satisfied  to  board.  We  were  fortunate  in  getting  a 
good  maid,  the  boy  kept  well,  we  had  a  cool  summer, 
business  was  fairly  good  and  we  had  soon  forgotten 
the  hard  times  of  the  previous  winter. 

Of  course,  we  were  prudent  in  our  expenditures, 
but  we  lived  well  and  did  a  little  entertaining. 

In  October  we  rented  and  furnished  tastefully  but 
inexpensively  a  two-story  and  basement  house,  one 
of  a  new  row  in  a  pleasant  street,  not  far  from  the 
residence  of  Mr.  Sherman. 

While  we  did  not  own  the  house,  the  fact  that  the 
contents  belonged  to  us  gave  us  a  sense  of  proprie- 
torship that  we  had  not  felt  in  the  house  we  had 
recently  vacated. 

We  had  enjoyed  greatly  our  shopping  for  the  fur- 
nishings and  felt  very  happy  in  our  new  home  amidst 
our  household  gods. 

Our  efficient  maid  was  devoted  to  our  boy  and 
to  her  mistress.  The  housekeeping  ran  smoothly, 
and  although  we  already  began  to  talk  of  the  day 
when  we  should  own  our  home  and  of  what  that 
home  should  be,  we  were  entirely  contented  and 
happy. 

As  the  winter  approached  I  began  to  suffer, 
slightly  at  first,  with  muscular  rheumatism.     Not 


The  Coming  of  the  Stork  55 

since  the  days  of  childhood,  when  I  had  gone 
through  the  usual  category  of  children's  diseases, 
had  I  been  really  ill.  I  always  had  suffered  to  some 
extent  with  neuralgic  headaches,  inherited  no  doubt 
from  my  mother,  who  was  a  great  sufferer,  and 
with  the  advent  of  the  rheumatism  these  headaches 
became  more  frequent  and  severe. 

I  did  not  regard  the  trouble  seriously  and  I  so 
enjoyed  the  fond  nursing  and  petting  of  my  wife 
that  the  pain  brought  its  own  recompense.  It  soon 
became  evident,  however,  that  I  required  medical 
attention. 

First  one  and  then  another  physician  was  called 
upon  without  getting  relief,  the  attacks  recurring  at 
shorter  intervals  and  each  time  seemingly  more 
severe.  I  stood  it  through  the  winter,  though  suffer- 
ing greatly,  and  with  the  warmer  weather  my  health 
improved.    < 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    NEW    PARTNER 

Tom  Allis,  my  new  partner,  was  one  of  the  most 
peculiar  men  I  have  ever  met.  In  social  life  he  was 
affable  and  self-possessed,  but  in  his  business  inter- 
course exhibited  confusion  and  a  shyness  that  was 
simply  amazing. 

Actually  and  in  appearance  he  was  about  my  age, 
while  in  his  manner  he  was  a  bashful  boy  of  seven- 
teen. It  was  impossible  for  him  to  talk  without 
blushing  and  appearing  extremely  embarrassed. 

As  I  had  only  met  him  socially,  this  phase  was  a 
revelation  to  me.  I  tried  to  get  him  out  amongst 
the  trade,  thinking  that  after  he  had  become  well 
acquainted  his  embarrassment  would  be  overcome, 
or  at  least  partially  so.  My  efforts  in  this  direction 
failed  and  he  settled  down  to  a  routine  office-man, 
and  while  he  looked  after  that  end  of  the  business 
satisfactorily,  I  could  easily  have  found  a  clerk 
at  fifteen  dollars  per  week  to  do  as  well. 

This  was  disappointing,  but  I  hoped  that  as  he 
gained  experience  his  services  would  be  of  greater 
value  to  the  firm.  Meanwhile,  I  let  him  relieve  me 
entirely  of  the  office  work. 


The  New  Partner  57 

Tom  had  been  with  me  only  a  few  months  when 
he  came  to  me  for  advice  in  a  matter  in  which  he 
felt  he  had  become  involved. 

It  appeared  he  had  been  calling  regularly  on  a 
young  lady,  a  pretty  little  French  girl.  I  had  met 
her  but  once  and  then  was  impressed  with  the  idea 
that  she  had  a  temper  which  it  would  be  unpleasant 
to  arouse,  though  I  may  have  done  her  an  injustice. 

At  all  events,  Tom  said  he  thought  the  girl  was 
in  love  with  him;  that  probably  he  had  given  her 
reason  to  believe  his  attentions  were  serious,  and  he 
saw  no  honorable  way  out  except  to  ask  her  to  be  his 
wife. 

I  saw  that  the  boy,  so  he  seemed  to  me,  was  really 
very  much  disturbed.  I  told  him  before  I  could 
offer  any  advice  I  must  know  every  detail,  and  after 
learning  that  not  one  word  of  love  had  ever  passed 
between  them,  that  their  intercourse  was  really 
nothing  more  than  that  of  intimate  friends,  and  he 
assuring  me  that  he  had  not  a  particle  of  love  for 
the  girl,  I  advised  him  strongly  to  give  up  any  idea 
of  offering  her  marriage  and  to  gently  but  firmly 
break  off  the  intimacy. 

He  accepted  the  advice  gratefully  and  acted  on  it. 

A  few  years  later  he  married  the  girl,  and  I  pre- 
sume that  he  told  her  of  my  share  in  this  matter. 
She  probably  held  me  responsible  and  no  doubt  influ- 
enced him  to  some  extent  in  a  course  of  action,  re- 
ferred to  farther  on  in  this  narrative,  that  I  have 
always  regarded  with  regret. 


58  The  New  Partner 

It  is  a  thankless  task  to  advise  one  in  such  matters, 
even  though  the  one  be  your  friend. 

Business  continued  to  improve  slowly,  but  at  the 
end  of  the  year  my  partner  had  drawn  as  his  share 
of  the  profits,  for  the  eight  months  he  had  been  with 
me,  twenty-two  hundred  dollars. 

He  was  more  than  satisfied,  and  well  he  might  be. 

During  the  winter  of  1874  and  '75  I  had  another 
and  more  trying  siege  of  rheumatism.  As  in  the 
previous  spring,  with  the  advent  of  warmer  weather 
I  found  relief,  but  I  knew  the  disease  had  become 
chronic  and  it  worried  me. 

This  worry,  however,  I  soon  dismissed  from  my 
mind  to  make  room  for  one  more  formidable  and 
pressing. 

Hard  times  were  coming  again  and  there  were  two 
now  to  divide  the  profits. 

The  furnishing  of  our  home  had  absorbed  a  good 
portion  of  the  three  thousand  dollars  I  had  received 
from  my  partner,  and  my  living  expenses  together 
with  what  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  do  toward  the 
support  of  my  parents  and  sisters  exhausted  my 
income. 

My  always-cheerful  and  devoted  wife,  and  my 
boy,  just  arriving  at  an  interesting  age,  made  home 
so  attractive  that  I  was  able  to  forget  business  when 
away  from  the  office. 

Each  morning  with  the  parting  caress  came  words 
of  loving  encouragement  that  did  much  to  support 


The  New  Partner  59 

me  through  the  day,  and  at  night  on  my  return  home, 
my  greeting  from  wife  and  boy  always  dispelled  the 
clouds  hanging  over  me. 

I  was  happy,  infinitely  so,  despite  the  business 
worry. 

My  physicians  had  advised  my  leaving  Brooklyn 
for  a  dryer  atmosphere. 

We  had  a  lease  of  our  house  until  the  spring  of 
1876,  but  had  decided  that  then  we  would  try  coun- 
try life. 

Many  hours  were  passed  pleasantly  in  discussing 
the  plan  and  its  probable  results.  My  wife's  fertile 
brain  would  paint  to  me  in  pleasing  colors  what  the 
country  home  should  be — the  cottage  and  its  cozi- 
ness,  the  garden,  the  lawn  and  flowers,  my  health 
restored,  the  benefit  of  country  life  to  the  boy,  and 
the  relief  to  my  mind  through  largely  reduced  living 
expenses. 

We  were  eager  for  the  time  to  come  to  make  the 
change. 

On  the  twelfth  of  December  our  second  child  was 
born.  My  first  boy  had  a  brother,  and  again  my 
wife,  noble  woman,  gave  testimony  of  her  great  love. 

No  trials  that  came  to  her  prevented  the  outpour- 
ing of  that  love  to  me. 

Che  knew  how  I  needed  her  fond  encouragement, 
particularly  at  that  period,  and  she  gave  it  to  me 
daily,  always  with  the  same  sweet  smile  and  tender 
caress. 

That  winter  will  never  be  forgotten  by  me  for  the 
torture  which  I  suffered  from  the  almost  nightly 


60  The  New  Partner 

attacks  of  that  awful  rheumatism.  Medicine  did  not 
seem  of  any  use. 

Night  after  night  until  long  past  midnight  my 
devoted  wife,  with  ceaseless  energy,  would  apply 
every  few  moments  hot  applications  to  relieve  the 
cruel  pains,  until  finally  I  would  fall  asleep  for  a  few 
hours'  rest. 

I  lost  flesh  rapidly,  and  when  spring  came  was 
hardly  more  than  a  semblance  of  my  former  self. 

It  was  indeed  time  that  I  should  shake  the  dust 
of  Brooklyn  from  my  feet. 

Before  the  winter  was  over  we  had  commenced 
to  scan  the  advertising  columns  of  the  daily  papers 
for  "country  places  to  rent."  We  wanted  if  possible 
to  get  a  place  in  the  mountainous  section  of  New 
Jersey.  I  wanted  to  get  away  from  air  off  the  salt 
water  and  this  section  of  the  country  seemed  the 
best. 

It  must  be  healthy  and  at  a  low  rent.  For  the  rest 
we  must  take  what  we  could  get  at  the  price  we  could 
pay. 

Our  search  ended  in  our  taking  a  place  of  about 
six  acres,  five  minutes'  walk  from  a  station  on  the 
Morris  &  Essex  Railroad,  between  Summit  and 
Morristown. 

On  the  property  was  a  farm-house  more  than  one 
hundred  years  old,  and  this  the  owner  repaired  and 
improved  by  building  an  extra  room  and  a  piazza 
across  the  front  of  the  house. 


The  New  Partner  61 

The  rent  was  two  hundred  dollars  a  year.  We 
moved  there  early  in  April.  The  last  night  in  the 
Brooklyn  house  I  had  one  of  my  worst  attacks  of 
rheumatism.  /  have  never  had  the  slightest  twinge 
of  it  since. 

Blessed  be  New  Jersey ! 


CHAPTER  IX 

SUBURBAN    LIFE 

We  had  been  in  our  new  home  but  very  few  days 
before  we  were  quite  in  accord  with  the  sentiment 
that  "God  made  the  country  and  man  made  the 
town." 

The  house  in  its  exterior  was  the  ordinary,  old- 
fashioned,  one-and-a-half  story  farmhouse,  improved 
by  a  piazza;  but  the  interior,  under  the  deft  hands 
and  good  taste  of  my  wife,  had  an  appearance  both 
home-like  and  cozy  that  was  very  attractive. 

We  had  to  get  accustomed  to  the  low  ceilings,  only 
seven  feet  high;  but  this  did  not  distress  us,  though 
in  our  parlor,  a  room  twenty-eight  feet  long,  the 
effect  was  always  peculiar. 

The  grounds  around  the  house  were  not  laid  out. 
It  was  simply  a  case  of  a  house  set  on  a  little  eleva- 
tion, in  the  center  of  a  rather  rough  lawn,  and  with- 
out a  path  or  a  flower-bed,  no  shrubs  and  but  few 
trees. 

I  hired  a  man  with  plow  and  horse  for  a  day  or 
two  and  we  made  a  path  from  the  piazza  to  the  road, 
set  out  an  arbor- vitse  hedge,  made  two  or  three  small 
flower-beds  and  had  the  kitchen-garden  ploughed. 

The  man  planted  the  potatoes  and  corn  in  a  field 
next  the  garden,  but  that  kitchen-garden  was  my 


Suburban  Life  63 

hobby,  and  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  a  child  with 
a  new  toy  I  took  personal  possession  of  it. 

About  an  acre  in  extent,  fenced  and  almost  entirely 
free  from  even  small  stones,  the  soil  was  rich  and 
productive.  I  met  with  wonderful  success,  and  the 
crops  that  I  raised,  in  their  earliness  and  size,  aston- 
ished the  natives. 

Every  pleasant  morning  I  was  up  at  five  o'clock, 
and  after  a  bowl  of  crackers  and  milk,  worked  for 
two  or  three  hours.  Then  a  bath,  followed  by  break 
fast,  and  after  a  day  in  town,  which,  owing  to  dull 
business,  I  made  very  short,  I  was  back  in  the  after- 
noon at  work  again. 

How  I  did  enjoy  those  days. 

In  the  early  stages  my  wife  used  to  laugh  at  me 
for  digging  up  the  seed  to  see  if  it  had  sprouted,  so 
impatient  was  I  to  see  the  growing  plants. 

We  had  an  ice-house,  filled  for  us  by  the  owner 
without  charge,  and  in  melon  season  I  picked  the 
melons  in  the  morning  and  left  them  in  the  ice-house 
all  day. 

My  mouth  waters  at  the  thought  of  those  delicious 
melons. 

The  fact  that  I  raised  everything  myself,  practi- 
cally by  my  own  labor,  added  greatly  to  our  enjoy- 
ment in  the  eating. 

The  walk  between  house  and  station  was  for  most 
of  the  distance  through  a  private  lane  which  was  in 
part  shaded  by  large  trees. 

The  quaint  old  village,  one  of  the  oldest  in  the 
State,  was  interesting ;  but  not  so  the  people,  at  least 


64  Suburban  Life 

to  us.  It  was  a  farming  community,  and  of  social 
life  there  was  none. 

Still,  we  felt  that  no  deprivation.  We  had  found 
what  we  sought — a  pleasant,  comfortable  home,  my 
return  to  good  health,  and  economical  living. 

During  the  first  year  of  our  residence  in  the 
country  our  entire  expenditure  was  but  thirteen 
hundred  dollars,  which  was  fully  three  thousand 
dollars  less  than  the  year  previous. 

A  few  of  our  most  intimate  friends  were  invited 
occasionally  for  visits  of  a  few  days,  and  these  little 
visits  we  always  enjoyed;  but  to  each  other  my  wife 
and  I  were  all-sufficient,  and  in  the  dear  little  home 
there  was  never  a  feeling  of  loneliness. 

It  was  truly  "love  in  a  cottage." 

During  the  summer,  about  once  a  week,  I  would 
hire  from  a  farmer  a  horse  and  rockaway,  and  with 
wife  and  babies  take  a  drive,  our  favorite  ride  having 
as  an  objective  point  a  visit  to  the  old  Ford  mansion, 
Washington's  headquarters  at  Morristown. 

There  is  certainly  no  section  of  country  in  the 
vicinity  of  New  York  city  that  can  compare  in 
natural  beauty  with  Morris  County,  New  Jersey,  and 
we  commanded  the  best  of  this,  in  rather  antiquated 
style  of  equipage  to  be  sure,  but  at  the  small  cost  of 
half  a  dollar  for  "all  the  afternoon." 

Thinking  of  that  old  carriage  recalls  to  mind  an 
incident  of  later  years  which  so  impressed  me  I  shall 
never  forget  it. 


Suburban  Life  65 

With  my  wife  I  was  spending  a  few  days  at  Old 
Point  Comfort,  and  while  we  were  there  John  Jacob 
Astor  and  his  bride  arrived,  on  their  wedding  tour. 

The  hack  service  at  the  Point  at  that  time  was 
about  the  worst  imaginable.  The  hotel  had  none, 
and  a  few  old  negroes  with  disreputable  "foh  de 
wah"  vehicles  and  horses  that  could  only  get  over 
the  poor  roads  by  constant  urging,  picked  up  a  few 
dollars  by  driving  guests  of  the  hotel  to  the  Hamp- 
ton School. 

One  afternoon  when  there  were  just  two  of  these 
hacks  standing  in  front  of  the  hotel,  I  engaged  the 
better  one. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  only  difference  I  could 
see  was  that  the  one  I  selected  had  been  washed 
probably  at  least  once  that  season,  whereas  the  other 
appeared  to  be  plastered  with  the  dried  mud  of  ages. 

We  drove  to  the  school  and  on  our  return  met  the 
other  hack  on  its  way  there. 

The  hackman  had  disappeared,  and  in  his  place, 
driving  positively  the  worst-looking  turnout  I  ever 
saw,  was  John  Jacob  Astor  with  his  bride  sitting 
beside  him. 

The  spectacle  of  that  man,  with  his  social  position 
and  his  enormous  wealth,  driving  under  such  con- 
ditions, struck  me  first  as  ludicrous  and  then  as  a 
living  example  of  the  great  levelling  power  that  in 
the  end  makes  all  men  equal  regardless  of  wealth  or 
position. 


66  Suburban  Life 

My  boys  were  thriving  in  the  country  air,  living 
out  of  doors  most  of  the  day.  With  only  one  maid, 
my  wife  had  no  difficulty  in  keeping  busy  while  I 
was  in  town,  and  the  summer  passed  quickly  and 
pleasantly.^ 


CHAPTER  X 

MY    PARTNER    RETIRES 

Matters  at  the  office  had  been  going  badly  for 
many  months  and  any  improvement  in  prospect  was 
too  far  distant  to  be  discerned. 

My  partner  was  absolutely  useless  to  me  except  as 
a  clerk,  and  indeed  a  good  clerk  would  have  been 
better,  for  I  could  have  commanded  him  to  do  things 
that  I  could  only  request  of  my  partner,  and  I  had 
long  since  learned  that  these  requests  carried  no 
weight  unless  they  were  in  the  line  of  duty  that  was 
agreeable  to  him. 

On  first  taking  up  my  residence  in  the  country  I 
felt  it  necessary,  in  consequence  of  poor  health,  to 
remain  at  home  a  day  or  two  each  week,  but  I  soon 
had  to  abandon  this  custom,  for  on  such  days  there 
was  nothing  accomplished. 

Orders  by  mail  and  wire  which  should  have  had 
immediate  attention  were  held  over  until  the  follow- 
ing day,  and  this  of  course  could  not  be  permitted, 
without  jeopardizing  the  business. 

When  I  would  ask  Tom  why  he  had  not  been  out 
in  the  trade  instead  of  remaining  at  his  desk  all  day, 


68  My  Partner  Retires 

the  only  satisfaction  I  could  get  was  his  statement 
that  the  trade  treated  him  as  a  boy  and  he  did  not 
like  it. 

I  knew  but  too  well  that  the  trade  sized  him  up 
about  right 

He  meant  well  enough,  but  it  simply  wasn't  in  him 
to  assert  himself. 

He  had  been  with  me  a  little  over  two  years  and 
during  that  time  his  share  of  the  profits  had  returned 
him  the  three  thousand  dollars  he  had  invested  and 
in  addition  paid  him  what  would  have  been  a  good 
salary  for  the  services  rendered. 

As  he  was  unmarried  and  lived  with  his  parents, 
paying  no  board,  a  very  small  business  would  give 
him  an  income  sufficient  for  his  requirements,  and 
apparently  he  was  contented  to  let  matters  go  on  as 
they  were. 

What  might  be  considered  easy  times  for  him  with 
no  responsibilities,  was  for  me,  with  a  wife  and  two 
children,  parents  and  two  sisters,  to  provide  for,  an 
impossible  proposition. 

Something  had  to  be  done  to  change  the  status. 

I  waited  until  the  first  of  September  in  hopes  of 
some  sign  of  better  times,  but  business  looked  worse 
rather  than  better,  and  I  decided  to  make  him  an  offer 
for  his  interest.  I  thought  best  to  put  this  in 
writing",  and  while  doing  so  went  fully  into  our 
affairs  and  endeavored  to  show  him  how  impossible 
it  was  for  me  to  go  on  any  longer  under  existing 
conditions.     Incidentally  I  emphasized  the  fact  that 


My  Partner  Retires  69 

after  more  than  two  years'  experience  he  was  still 
unable  to  accomplish  anything  that  could  not  be  done 
by  a  clerk. 

Then  I  made  him  an  offer  of  two  thousand  dollars 
to  be  paid  in  monthly  instalments  of  fifty  dollars 
each,  without  interest,  the  first  payment  to  be  made 
in  January.  For  these  payments  I  offered  him  my 
notes. 

I  had  written  this  on  a  Saturday  morning-,  and 
having  finished  while  he  was  at  luncheon,  laid  it  on 
his  desk  and  took  my  usual  train  home,  which  gave 
him  an  opportunity  to  think  the  matter  over  until 
Monday. 

When  we  met  on  Monday  morning  I  was  not 
surprised  to  find  him  in  a  bad  temper. 

He  said  at  once  that  he  declined  my  offer,  and 
having  paid  his  money  to  come  into  the  concern  he 
proposed  to  stay. 

I  told  him  I  was  sorry  I  could  not  see  my  way 
clear  to  make  any  better  offer  and  it  was  that  or 
nothing.  If  he  would  not  accept  it,  then  the  only 
alternative  was  for  me  to  step  out  and  leave  him  the 
business. 

This  suggestion  startled  him.  He  knew  he  could 
not  carry  on  the  business  without  me. 

After  going  to  his  father's  office  for  consultation 
he  returned  and  said  he  had  decided  to  accept  my 
offer.  "As  to  those  notes,"  he  said,  "you  may  give 
them  to  me  if  you  like,  but  I  don't  suppose  you  will 
ever  pay  them." 


70  My  Partner  Retires 

We  terminated  our  partnership  that  day,  but  I 
continued  the  business  under  the  same  style,  W.  E. 
Stowe  &  Co.,  complying-  with  the  legal  requirements 
governing  such  action. 

While  Allis  was  my  partner,  on  more  than  one 
occasion,  when  we  were  discussing  the  wretched 
state  of  business,  he  would  call  himself  a  "Jonah/'' 
and  in  the  light  of  later  developments  it  really  looked 
as  if  such  was  the  fact. 

When  we  separated,  unquestionably  the  outlook 
was  most  gloomy.  I  could  not  see  a  ray  of  light 
ahead,  and  without  the  constant  encouragement  of 
my  wife,  who  always  insisted  that  brighter  days 
were  in  store  for  us,  I  might  have  given  up  the  ship. 

Before  I  had  been  alone  a  month  an  improvement 
was  perceptible,  in  another  month  it  was  more 
decided,  and  by  the  end  of  the  year  there  was  no 
longer  any  doubt  that  an  era  of  good  times  was 
approaching. 

Those  notes  for  two  thousand  dollars  given  Allis, 
and  which  he  thought  I  would  never  pay,  carried  no 
interest.  There  was  no  reason  I  should  anticipate 
the  payments  if  I  did  not  wish  to.  Probably  he 
would  have  been  glad  to  have  me  discount  them.  I 
had  forty  months  in  which  to  pay  them.  I  paid 
them  all  in  full  within  six  months. 

I  thought  he  would  appreciate  my  doing  so.  Quite 
the  contrary. 

Of  course  my  prepayment  so  far  in  advance  of 
maturity  was  evidence  of  my  prosperity. 


My  Partner  Retires  71 

He,  in  his  small  soul,  could  not  but  believe  I  knew 
this  prosperity  was  coming  and  had  forced  him  out 
of  the  firm,  just  in  advance  of  its  arrival.  I  met  him 
in  the  street  frequently  and  noticed  the  change  in  hib 
manner.  A  few  weeks  later  he  did  not  return  my 
bow  and  we  have  since  been  strangers. 

When  I  heard  shortly  after  of  his  engagement  to 
the  little  French  girl,  I  concluded  that  his  envy  of 
my  success  and  her  prejudice  for  my  share  in  the 
temporary  cessation  of  his  intimacy  with  her  had 
cost  me  a  friend.  And  yet  it  surely  was  through  no 
fault  of  mine.'K 


CHAPTER  XI 

A    YEAR    OF    SUNSHINE 

The  year  1878  was  to  me  a  memorable  one. 

The  improvement  in  business  the  previous  year 
had  been  sufficient  to  enable  me  to  pay  my  indebted- 
ness to  Allis,  meet  all  my  current  expenses,  and  enter 
the  new  year  with  a  good  balance  in  bank. 

My  health  had  become  entirely  restored,  and  with 
mind  free  from  worry  life  was  indeed  well  worth  the 
living.  The  home  life,  happy  under  adverse  circum- 
stances, was  of  course  made  more  enjoyable  by  my 
improved  financial  condition. 

The  little  rivulet  of  prosperity  of  1877  broadened 
in  1878  to  a  stream,  small  at  first,  but  ever  widening 
and  leading  on  to  the  sea. 

On  the  second  of  July  there  was  born  to  us  our 
first  daughter. 

My  wife  and  myself  were  delighted  with  this  lat- 
est arrival  from  love-land.  We  had  looked  forward 
with  fond  anticipation  to  the  event,  and  our  hearts' 
desire  was  that  a  daughter  should  be  added  to  the 
family  circle.  The  blessing  had  come  to  us  and  we 
were  grateful. 

What  shall  I  say  of  the  mother  of  that  little  daugh- 
ter ?y 


A  Year  of  Sunshine  73 

What  can  I  say  that  would  do  justice  to  her  love 
and  devotion  ? 

It  is  said  "there  is  no  love  like  a  mother's  love." 
True,  but  with  all  reverence  to  my  own  sainted 
mother,  there  is  another  love  that  has  come  to  me, 
the  love  of  a  wife  for  her  husband,  that  I  cannot  but 
maintain  is  the  greatest  of  all. 

How  completely  that  little  baby  girl  ruled  the 
household  was  soon  in  evidence.  For  the  time  being 
she  was  queen  and  we  her  loyal  subjects,  anxious  to 
do  her  honor.  The  little  brothers  were  more  than 
pleased  to  have  a  sister  and  rivalled  each  other  in 
their  efforts  to  entertain  her. 

The  mother  was  proud  of  her  girl  and  I — well,  to 
tell  the  truth,  I  was  deeply  in  love  with  the  entire 
family. 

Our  lease  of  the  place  had  expired  in  April  but  I 
arranged  to  keep  it  until  the  first  of  October. 

We  felt  warranted,  in  our  improved  circumstan- 
ces, in  seeking  a  better  home,  amidst  refined  sur- 
roundings, and  had  concluded  to  make  a  change  in 
the  fall.  We  did  not  want  to  give  up  country  life. 
My  wife  and  I  enjoyed  it  and  we  knew  it  was  best 
for  the  children.  Our  desire  was  for  a  house  with 
modern  conveniences,  neighbors,  pleasant,  cultured 
people  whose  society  we  could  enjoy. 

On  my  trips  to  and  from  the  city  I  had  observed 
from  the  car  window  a  section  of  country  not  far 
from  where  we  were  then  residing,  and  as  the  few 


74  A  Year  of  Sunshine 

houses  I  could  see  were  modern,  the  elevation  high 
and  beautifully  wooded,  we  thought  it  worth  while 
to  investigate. 

With  my  wife  I  drove  there  one  afternoon  and  we 
were  both  surprised  and  delighted  at  what  we  saw. 

A  gentleman  of  wealth  had  purchased  many  hun- 
dreds of  acres  of  land,  and  after  building  for  himself 
a  handsome  home  had  commenced  development  of 
the  property  for  residences  of  the  better  class. 

There  was  nothing  of  the  cheap  real  estate  scheme 
about  the  place.  The  owner  would  sell  or  rent  only 
to  such  people  as  he  deemed  desirable. 

Although  the  water  supply  and  sewerage  system 
had  been  established,  miles  of  roads  built,  a  hand- 
some railroad  station  erected  and  a  large  Casino  in 
course  of  erection,  there  were  at  that  time  but  six 
houses  completed. 

Knollwood  was  to  be  a  park,  and  as  a  unique  feat- 
ure no  two  houses  were  to  be  alike.  How  successful 
it  has  been  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  to-day  there  is 
no  more  beautiful  or  flourishing  residence  park  in 
the  vicinity  of  New  York. 

As  a  result  of  our  visit  to  the  property,  an  ar- 
rangement was  made  for  a  house  to  be  built  for  us 
on  a  lease  of  three  years,  and  we  were  permitted  to 
select  the  plans  of  the  house,  its  site,  and  the  interior 
decorations.  Work  was  to  commence  at  once  and 
possession  given  us  in  April,  1879. 

Not  wishing  to  spend  another  winter  where  we 
were,  we  returned  to  Brooklyn  and  remained  with 
my  parents  until  the  new  house  was  completed. 


A  Year  of  Sunshine  75 

When  we  commenced  our  packing  preparatory  to 
leaving  the  little  farm,  as  we  called  it,  there  was  a 
feeling  akin  to  homesickness. 

We  had  been  very  happy  and  great  blessings  had 
come  to  us  while  there.  The  dear  little  baby  girl, 
my  health,  prosperity  in  worldly  affairs — all  this  and 
the  thought  of  how  the  place  had  been  a  sort  of 
lovers'  retreat,  where  I  had  my  wife  all  to  myself 
most  of  the  time,  made  the  homely  old  farm-house 
seem  something  sacred. 

We  could  not  but  feel  a  little  sentimental  over  it 
all. 

The  garden,  the  arbor-vitse  hedge,  planted  with 
my  own  hands,  and  now  tall  and  almost  impene- 
trable, the  play-house  which  I  built  in  the  orchard 
for  the  children,  all  had  to  be  visited  with  a  feeling 
of  saying  good-by  to  old  friends. 

There  was  hardly  a  summer  for  years  after  that 
we  did  not  at  least  once  drive  down  the  old  lane  and 
look  over  the  place  where  our  country  life  had  com- 
menced, and  I  shall  have  for  it  always  a  tender  spot 
in  my  memory. 

When,  at  the  end  of  the  year,  the  books  were 
closed  at  the  office,  I  was  pleased  to  find  that  I  had 
made  a  little  over  twelve  thousand  dollars. 

It  had  taken  me  eight  years  to  catch  up  to  the 
point  where  Mr.  Derham  left  off,  but  I  had  finally 
succeeded. 

As  I  was  but  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  I  con- 
gratulated myself  with  a  little  self-conceit  that  was 
perhaps  pardonable. 

It  had  certainly  been  a  hard  up-hill  fight. ^ 


CHAPTER  XII 

AN   IDEAL  LIFE 

As  the  new  house  was  approaching  completion  we 
found  much  pleasure  in  occasionally  going  to  Knoll- 
wood  for  an  hour  or  two,  to  look  it  over. 

Our  having  selected  the  plans  and  site  made  it 
seem  as  if  it  belonged  to  us  and  our  interest  in  its 
development  was  great.  The  kitchen  was  in  the 
basement.  On  the  first  floor  was  a  square  entrance 
hall  opening  into  parlor,  dining-room  and  library. 
There  were  four  bed-rooms  and  bath-room  on  second 
floor  and  above  that  a  maid's  room  and  attic. 

While  the  house  was  not  large  the  rooms  were  all 
of  comfortable  size.  For  heating,  in  addition  to  the 
furnace,  there  were  several  open  fire-places,  a  great 
desideratum  in  any  house.  In  its  exterior  the  style 
was  something  of  the  Swiss  cottage. 

The  grounds  consisted  of  about  an  acre  in  lawn 
with  a  few  flower-beds  and  a  number  of  fine  trees. 

In  April  we  moved  into  the  new  house.  Some 
additions  had  been  made  to  our  furnishings,  and 
when  all  was  in  order  we  agreed  that  in  our  eyes 
there  was  no  other  house  in  the  world  quite  so  pretty. 

It  was  a  case  of  "contentment  is  wealth,"  and  we 
were  perfectly  contented. 


An  Ideal  Life  77 

Of  course  we  must  have  a  name  for  the  place. 
Every  one  does  that,  in  the  country,  and  we  were 
not  to  be  the  exception.  One  of  our  boundary  lines 
was  a  brook  and  we  decided  on  "Brookside  Cottage." 

The  stationery  and  visiting  cards  were  so  en- 
graved, when,  alas,  a  few  weeks  later  our  brook 
dried  up  and  we  had  to  select  another  name. 

At  this  time,  where  the  brook  had  been,  a  new  line 
of  sewer  was  laid,  and  my  wife  suggested  "Sewer- 
side,"  but  after  punishing  her  with  a  kiss  for  her 
bad  pun,  I  suggested  "Sunnyside." 

The  name  was  adopted  and  to  this  day  the  place 
has  retained  it. 

"Sunnyside"  was  not  the  only  house  in  Knollwood 
completed  that  spring.  There  were  several  others, 
and  when  the  summer  commenced  there  resided  there 
a  little  community  of  delightful,  congenial  people. 
Most  of  them  were  of  about  my  age,  and  with  the 
exception  of  the  owner  of  the  Park,  of  moderate 
means.  Probably  at  that  time  I  enjoyed  a  larger 
income  than  any  of  them. 

Wealth  cut  no  figure  in  that  community.  We  all 
respected  each  other  and  met  on  the  same  social 
plane,  regardless  of  individual  means. 

While  we  liked  them  all,  we  became  particularly 
intimate  with  two  of  our  immediate  neighbors,  the 
Woods  and  the  Lawtons,  who  had  come  to  the  Park 
at  the  same  time  as  ourselves. 

This  intimacy  became  a  strong  and  close  friend- 
ship, so  much  so  that  it  was  very  like  one  family. 
The  children  of  the  three  families  fraternized  and 


\ 


78  An  Ideal  Life 

almost  every  disengaged  evening  found  the  parents 
gathered  together  in  some  one  of  the  three  houses, 
which  were  connected  by  private  telephone.^' 

In  its  social  elements  Knollwood  was  peculiarly 
fortunate.  The  people  were  bright  and  entertain- 
ing. In  a  number  of  instances  musical  talent,  both 
vocal  and  instrumental,  was  of  a  high  order,  and 
there  was  also  a  good  deal  of  amateur  dramatic 
talent. 

Taking  this  combination  and  an  inspiration  on  the 
part  of  each  individual  to  do  what  he  or  she  could 
for  the  entertainment  of  all,  one  can  readily  see  that 
much  pleasure  might  be  derived  in  Knollwood 
society. 

The  facilities  for  making  use  of  the  talent  we 
possessed  were  excellent.  We  had  a  beautiful 
casino,  with  a  stage  well  equipped  with  scenery, 
and  during  the  first  four  years  of  our  residence  there 
more  than  fifty  performances  were  given,  each  fol- 
lowed by  a  dance.  A  Country  Club  was  organized 
for  out-door  sports  and  there  was  something  going 
on  continually. 

The  life  at  Knollwood  in  those  days  was  to  my 
mind  ideal. 

The  beauty  of  the  place,  its  facilities  and  conven- 
iences are  still  there,  improved  and  increased.  Its 
social  life,  now  on  a  totally  different  scale,  has 
expanded  to  meet  the  tastes  of  the  people.  With  the 
large  increase  in  population  came  the  break  in  the 
circle.  Cliques  denning  the  difference,  not  in  culture 
or  refinement,  but  in  wealth,  have  developed.     The 


An  Ideal  Life  79 

old  charm  of  every  resident  my  friend,  is  lacking. 
Gossip,  unknown  in  the  early  days,  showed  its  ugly 
head  in  later  years.  — — 

It  is  the  way  of  the  world.  All  struggle  to  gain 
wealth.  Those  that  succeed,  with  but  few  excep- 
tions, sneer  at  those  who  are  left  behind,  and  what 
does  it  all  amount  to  in  the  end?  One  can  enjoy  it 
but  a  few  years  at  most. 

I  have  in  my  career  come  into  more  or  less  inti- 
mate contact,  socially  and  in  a  business  way,  with 
many  men  of  great  wealth.  In  some  instances,  where 
the  wealth  was  inherited,  the  past  generation  had 
paid  the  price  of  its  accumulation,  but  I  doubt  if 
any  of  those  who  have  given  up  the  best  of  their 
lives  in  the  struggle  to  attain  their  present  position 
and  wealth,  now  that  they  possess  it  get  out  of  it 
anything  like  the  degree  of  happiness  and  content- 
ment that  was  in  evidence  in  those  early  years  in 
Knollwood. 

And  what  has  it  cost  them  ? 

Long  years  of  struggle  and  worry,  continual  men- 
tal strain  that  has  prevented  the  full  enjoyment  of 
home  life,  a  weakened  physical  condition,  old  age  in 
advance  of  its  time,  and  more,  far  more  than  all 
this,  in  at  least  one  instance  of  which  I  have  per- 
sonal knowledge,  and  I  presume  there  have  been 
many  others,  the  disruption  of  a  family  that  would 
never  have  occurred  had  the  husband  given  less  time 
to  his  struggle  for  wealth  and  more  to  the  wife 
whom  he  had  vowed  to  love  and  cherish. 


80  An  Ideal  Life 

She,  poor,  beautiful  woman,  left  much  to  herself 
evening  after  evening  while  her  husband  was  at  his 
club  or  elsewhere  planning  with  allies  his  huge  busi- 
ness operations,  fell  a  victim  to  a  fiend  in  the  guise 
of  a  man. 

When  that  husband  looks  at  his  children,  deserted 
by  their  mother,  he  must  think  that  for  his  millions 
he  has  paid  a  stupendous  price. 

Wealth  brings  with  it  fashionable  life.  Of  what 
horrors  the  fashionable  life  of  New  York  is  continu- 
ally giving  us  examples,  the  columns  of  the  daily 
papers  bear  witness. 

Is  the  "game  worth  the  candle''  ? 


CHAPTER  XIII 

PROSPEROUS  DAYS 

My  business  in  1879  returned  me  nearly  sixteen 
thousand  dollars,  a  satisfactory  increase  over  the 
previous  year. 

My  wife  and  I  had  become  much  attached  to 
"Sunnyside,"  and  as  the  owner  was  willing  to  sell 
it  to  us  for  just  what  it  had  cost  to  build,  plus  one 
thousand  dollars  for  the  land,  we  bought  it.  We 
then  spent  eleven  hundred  dollars  in  improvements, 
and  when  finished  our  home  had  cost  us  sixty-five 
hundred  dollars. 

It  was  certainly  a  very  attractive  place  for  that 
amount  of  money.  To  be  sure  it  was  only  an  unpre- 
tentious cottage,  but  a  pretty  one,  and  the  interior 
had  been  so  successfully  though  inexpensively 
treated  in  decorations  and  appointments  that  the 
general  effect  attracted  from  our  friends  universal 
admiration. 

As  our  neighbor,  Charlie  Wood,  put  it  on  his 
first  inspection,  we  had  succeeded  in  making  a  "silk 
purse  out  of  a  sow's  ear."  His  remark  rather  grated 
on  us,  but  it  was  characteristic  of  the  man  and  we 
knew  it  was  simply  his  way  of  paying  us  a  compli- 
ment. 


82  Prosperous  Days 

In  January  a  broker  in  the  trade,  not  a  competitor 
for  the  reason  that  he  was  a  specialist  in  a  line  that 
I  did  not  cover,  gave  me  a  large  order,  for  future 
delivery. 

He  told  me  it  was  a  purchase  on  speculation  for 
himself  and  another  party  whom  he  named,  and 
that  not  only  should  I  have  the  resale  but  they  would 
give  me  one-eighth  interest  in  the  transaction. 

Up  to  that  time  I  had  never  been  interested  to 
the  extent  of  a  single  dollar  in  the  markets  in  which 
I  dealt  as  a  broker  nor  had  I  any  speculative  client- 
age. I  was  certain  the  operation  would  be  success- 
ful provided  they  did  not  hold  on  for  too  large  a 
profit  and  overstay  the  market.  I  accepted  the  order 
as  he  offered  it,  but  stipulated  that  I  should  have 
the  right  at  any  time  to  close  out  my  interest  in  the 
deal. 

The  purchase  was  made  and  a  few  weeks  later, 
long  before  time  for  delivery,  I  found  a  buyer  who 
would  pay  a  clear  ten  thousand  dollars  profit.  In 
vain  I  urged  them  to  accept  it.  Then  with  their 
knowledge  I  sold  my  interest  and  secured  my  twelve 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

They  held  on,  took  delivery  at  maturity,  and 
finally  after  several  months  I  resold  for  them  at  a 
loss  of  nearly  forty  thousand  dollars. 

In  the  negotiations  I  came  into  personal  contact 
only  with  the  broker.  The  other  party  was  a  wealthy 
Hebrew  merchant  then  doing  business  on  Broome 
Street.  He  was  at  that  time  supposed  to  be  worth 
possibly  a  million  and  was  just  getting  in  touch  with 


Prosperous  Days  83 

my  line  of  trade.  A  few  years  later  he  became  a 
most  important  factor  and  still  later  was  allied  with 
Standard  Oil  interests. 

At  his  death  in  1902  he  left  to  his  heirs  more 
than  ten  millions  of  dollars.  I  attended  his  funeral 
and  truly  mourned  and  respected  the  man,  for  while 
for  many  years  we  were  active  business  competitors, 
in  the  days  of  trouble  he  was  one  of  the  very  few 
ready  to  extend  a  helping  hand. 

In  the  first  three  months  of  1880,  including  my 
profit  in  the  transaction  just  mentioned,  I  made  six 
thousand  dollars.  I  was  now  in  a  position  where  if 
hard  times  came  I  could  accept  them  with  reason- 
able complacency. 

My  success  had  broadened  my  views  and  given 
me  a  keener  insight  into  the  possibilities  of  my  busi- 
ness. I  became  convinced  that  in  earning  capacity 
it  was  about  at  the  top  notch. 

There  were  several  features  then  becoming  promi- 
nent that  led  me  to  this  conclusion.  The  Standard 
Oil  Company  had  absorbed  all  the  refining  concerns 
and  had  then  established  its  own  broker.  It  paid 
him  a  salary  for  his  services  and  he  paid  to  the  Com- 
pany the  brokerages  he  collected  from  the  sellers. 
I  had  been  doing  a  large  business  with  the  constitu- 
ent companies  which  would  now  cease.  The  leading 
firm  with  which  my  relations  had  been  most  intimate 
had  taken  into  its  employ  as  a  confidential  man  my 
most  active  competitor  and  I  knew  his  influence 
would  work  against  me  to  the  utmost.  New  com- 
petitors, young  men  who  had  been  clerks  in  the 


84  Prosperous  Days 

trade,  were  coming  into  the  field.  Then  a  move- 
ment looking  to  a  reduction  in  the  rate  of  brokerage 
was  being  agitated. 

I  had  no  doubt  about  being  able  to  keep  up  with 
the  procession,  but  it  looked  to  me  as  if  the  proces- 
sion would  be  too  slow  and  if  it  was  to  be  a  funeral 
march  I  proposed  to  look  on  rather  than  take  part. 
I  had  been  through  the  stages  of  creeping,  then  walk- 
ing, and  now  I  wanted  to  run. 

The  problem  was  before  me  and  I  thought  I  saw 
the  solution. 

The  business  being  done  by  brokers  covered  sev- 
eral different  articles.  The  most  important  of  these, 
that  is,  the  one  on  which  the  most  brokerages  were 
earned,  happened  to  be  the  one  article  that  the  Stan- 
dard Oil  Company  was  the  largest  buyer  of,  that  the 
leading  firm  was  most  interested  in,  and  that  the 
talk  of  reduced  brokerage  was  aimed  at. 

My  plan  was  to  drop  that  entirely  and  also  every- 
thing else  except  one  particular  staple  commodity 
in  which  I  would  be  a  specialist.  I  had  for  two  or 
three  years  done  a  large  business  in  this  and  had 
made  a  profound  study  of  that  branch  of  the  trade. 

It  was  yet  in  its  infancy  but  I  believed  in  a  rapid 
and  important  growth.  How  rapid  that  growth  has 
been  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  in  1879  the  consump- 
tion in  the  United  States  was  less  than  five  thousand 
tons.  It  has  increased  every  year  since  and  is  now 
thirty-six  thousand  tons  per  year. 

Another  point  that  decided  me  on  the  commodity 
I  was  to  handle  exclusively  was  its  adaptability  to 


Prosperous  Days  85 

speculative  operations.  In  London  for  many  years 
it  has  been  a  favorite  medium  of  speculation  and 
I  believed  I  could  build  up  a  speculative  clientele 
and  thereby  largely  increase  my  brokerage  account. 
As  business  continued  good  through  the  spring 
and  early  summer  I  concluded  to  delay  my  action 
until  the  fall.  Each  month  I  was  adding  to  my  sur- 
plus and  there  was  no  need  for  haste. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

NEAR   THE   DARK   VALLEY 

It  was  the  middle  of  July.  After  a  most  oppres- 
sively hot  and  a  very  busy  day  in  the  city  I  returned 
home  with  a  feeling  of  weariness  that  was  unusual. 
My  head  ached  badly.  At  dinner  I  ate  but  little 
and  then  retired  early.  My  wife  petted  and  nursed 
me  until  I  had  fallen  asleep.  After  a  restless  night 
I  was  too  ill  to  rise  in  the  morning. 

Our  physician  was  called  in  and  his  first  diag- 
nosis was  nothing  serious,  but  he  advised  my  remain- 
ing at  home  for  a  day  or  two  and  taking  a  much- 
needed  rest. 

Twenty- four  hours  later  he  pronounced  my  illness 
congestion  of  the  brain. 

Ten  years  of  close  application  to  business,  much 
of  the  time  under  a  great  nervous  strain  and  no  rest, 
had  brought  its  day  of  reckoning. 

For  nearly  three  weeks  I  was  confined  to  my  bed. 

My  wife,  aided  by  our  faithful  physician,  Doctor 
Burling,  who  often  when  I  was  delirious  remained 
with  me  throughout  the  night,  nursed  me  with  con- 
stant and  untiring  devotion.  While  she  accepted 
the  efficient  aid  of  one  of  my  sisters,  she  would  not 


Near  the  Dark  Valley  87 

consent  to  a  trained  nurse,  so  long  as  the  doctor 
would  advise  it  only  on  the  ground  of  relief  to  her. 

Her  love  for  me  was  all-absorbing  and  no  hand 
but  hers  should  administer  to  my  wants.  For  hours 
at  a  time  she  stroked  the  poor  tired  head,  until  her 
gentle  caresses  soothed  me  to  brief  intervals  of  rest. 

How  she  stood  the  strain,  especially  when  as  the 
crisis  drew  near  life  seemed  slowly  but  surely  ebb- 
ing, I  do  not  know.  I  never  opened  my  eyes  that 
they  did  not  rest  on  her  sweet  face,  smiling,  cheerful, 
her  own  fears  hidden  from  me  that  she  might  give 
me  the  courage  which  the  doctor  said  must  be  main- 
tained. 

Slowly  and  when  it  seemed  as  if  the  end  was  nigh, 
the  tide  turned — the  brain  cleared,  restful  sleep 
came,  and  my  life  was  saved. 

Doctor  Burling  had  done  everything  that  science, 
skill,  and  faithfulness  could  accomplish,  but  the  nurse 
was  the  Guardian  Angel  who  brought  me  out  of 
the  Dark  Valley  just  as  its  shadows  were  closing 
around  me. 

My  convalescence  was  slow,  but  as  soon  as  my 
strength  permitted,  with  my  wife  I  went  to  Block 
Island  for  a  few  weeks.     There  I  gained  rapidly. 

We  took  no  part  in  the  hotel  amusements  but  kept 
to  ourselves,  spending  our  days  reading  and  chatting 
on  the  shore  in  the  shade  of  the  bluffs  and  retiring 
early  for  long  restful  sleep  at  night. 

Block  Island  is  a  beautiful  spot  and  we  enjoyed 
our  visit  there  greatly.  It  is  to  be  expected  that  at 
a  summer  hotel  in  the  height  of  the  season,  if  a 


88  Near  the  Dark  Valley 

young  couple  go  off  day  after  day  by  themselves, 
never  mingling  with  the  other  guests  nor  participat- 
ing in  their  pleasures,  that  some  comment  would  be 
excited,  but  we  were  much  amused  when,  the  day 
before  we  left  for  home,  the  major-domo  came  to  us 
and  said,  "I  understand  you  are  going  to  leave  us 
to-morrow  and  I  want  to  tell  you,  before  you  go, 
that  the  people  in  the  house  call  you  the  model  bridal 
couple  of  the  season" — and  we  had  three  children 
at  home ! 

On  my  return  to  the  office  early  in  September  I 
found  it  was  time  for  me  to  perfect  my  plans  for  the 
contemplated  change  in  my  business.  During  my 
absence  very  little  money  had  been  made.  My  clerk, 
I  at  that  time  employed  but  one,  had  done  his  best, 
but  as  my  business  was  a  personal  one,  my  presence 
was  necessary  to  its  success. 

The  change  entailed  much  labor.  Lists  of  names 
must  be  compiled,  covering  all  the  buyers  in  the 
United  States  and  Canada.  These  had  to  be  pre- 
pared with  great  care  and  arranged  in  classes.  There 
were  consumers,  dealers,  railroad  purchasing  agents. 
There  were  the  small  and  the  large  buyers  in  each 
class.  To  get  these  lists  required  many  hours  spent 
in  searching  through  "Bradstreet's,"  and  it  was  a 
work  I  could  not  delegate  and  consequently  had  it 
to  do  myself. 

The  various  forms  for  daily  mail  quotations  were 
to  be  arranged  and  printed,  also  a  complete  telegraph 
code  for  the  use  of  customers. 


Near  the  Dark  Valley  89 

Then,  too,  a  vast  amount  of  statistical  information 
had  to  be  gone  over  and  a  basis  taken  for  the  circu- 
lars which  I  meant  to  issue  to  the  trade  semi- 
monthly. The  detail  seemed  endless,  but  by  the 
first  of  October  all  was  in  readiness  and  the  change 
was  made. 

Before  the  month  was  over  I  became  convinced 
that  my  move  had  been  a  wise  one.  I  had  practically 
no  competition  worthy  of  the  name  and  I  was  finding 
new  customers  every  day. 

So  successful  was  the  business  from  the  start 
that  with  the  help  of  those  last  two  months  of  the 
year  my  income  in  1880  was  twenty-one  thousand 
dollars,  and  this  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  I  had 
lost  two  months  through  my  illness.  It  was  really 
the  result  of  but  ten  months'  business. 

On  the  ninth  of  November  when  I  returned  from 
the  city  it  was  to  find  that  our  family  circle  had 
again  widened,  and  at  "Sunnyside"  all  hearts  were 
open  in  joyful  greeting  to  another  little  girl. 

My  wife  as  she  returned  my  caress  and  exhibited 
to  me  this  fourth  jewel  in  her  crown,  noticed  that 
I  was  agitated,  and  with  a  smile  and  the  intention 
of  calming  me  with  a  joke,  said,  "Darling,  are  not 
two  pair  a  pretty  good  hand?"  We  neither  of  us 
play  poker,  but  I  could  appreciate  the  joke. 

What  a  joyful  holiday  season  we  had  that  year ! 

As  we  drank  at  our  Christmas  dinner  a  toast 
to  the  health,  happiness,  and  prosperity  of  all  our 
friends,  we  felt  that  we  ourselves  were  getting  our 
full  share. 


90  Near  the  Dark  Valley 

My  wife,  beloved  by  all,  had  become  a  sort  of 
Lady  Bountiful  to  the  poor  of  a  neighboring  village, 
and  the  thought  of  the  many  others  we  had  made 
happy  that  day  added  zest  to  our  pleasure. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A   SUCCESSFUL   MANEUVER 

Elation  expressed  my  feeling  at  the  result  of  the 
change  in  my  business.  The  material  benefit  already 
was  demonstrated  and  the  mental  satisfaction  at  the 
correctness  of  my  judgment  added  much  to  the 
pleasure  of  reaping  the  profit. 

Apparently  1881  was  to  be  a  banner  year. 

My  firm  was  growing  rapidly  into  prominence. 
From  Maine  to  California  and  throughout  the  Can- 
adas  we  were  now  well  known. 

I  say  we,  for  as  my  readers  will  remember,  in 
1876  when  my  partner,  Allis,  retired,  I  continued 
doing  business  as  W.  E.  Stowe  &  Company,  though 
I  never  after  had  a  partner  and  all  acts  of  or  refer- 
ence to  the  firm  will  be  understood  as  relating  to 
myself  individually. 

Our  statistics,  in  the  absence  of  any  official  figures, 
were  accepted  by  the  trade  as  an  authority,  and  in 
the  foreign  markets  also,  so  far  as  the  American 
figures  were  concerned,  they  were  regarded  in  the 
same  light. 

As  the  business  between  London  and  New  York 
was  large  and  I  foresaw  that  it  must  increase  greatly 
I  was  desirous  of  having  a  London  connection.     A 


92  A  Successful  Maneuver 

dozen  reputable  firms  were  open  to  me  but  I  was 
ambitious.  I  looked  forward  to  become  the  leading 
firm  in  the  trade  in  this  country  and  I  wanted  a 
connection  with  the  leading  firm  in  London. 

This  firm  had  been  for  some  months  consigning 
occasional  parcels  to  a  large  banking  house.  The 
bankers  sold  through  any  broker.  A  share  of  the 
business  came  to  our  office  but  it  was  unimportant. 
I  wanted  it  all,  not  so  much  for  its  present  as  for 
the  future  value. 

So  far  as  this  market  was  concerned  I  knew  we 
were  in  a  position  that  was  unique. 

We  enjoyed  the  confidence  of  the  large  importers 
and  dealers  and  were  in  close  touch  with  the  con- 
suming trade  throughout  the  country.  Our  facili- 
ties for  getting  information  as  to  stocks  in  the  aggre- 
gate and  individually  were  unequalled.  The  large 
consumers  posted  us  in  advance  of  what  their  re- 
quirements would  be  for  certain  periods.  If  the 
large  city  dealers  were  manipulating  the  market  it 
was  done  through  our  office  and  we  knew  their  plans. 

Information  of  this  character  must  be  of  value  to 
the  London  firm  and  we  knew  it  was  not  getting  it. 

That  was  my  keynote. 

I  wrote  the  firm  a  newsy,  chatty  market  letter, 
saying  nothing  of  doing  business  together.  After 
that  first  letter  I  never  let  a  mail  steamer  leave  New 
York  that  did  not  carry  a  letter  to  the  firm  from  our 
office. 

While  those  letters  gave  enough  information  to 
show  the  recipient  our  position  in  the  trade,  I  wish 


A  Successful  Maneuver  93 

to  emphasize  the  fact  that  not  one  word  was  written 
that  in  the  remotest  degree  was  a  violation  of  any 
confidence  reposed  in  us  by  our  New  York  friends. 

The  weeks  went  by  and  we  received  from  the 
London  firm — nothing.  Finally  came  a  brief  com- 
munication acknowledging  with  thanks  our  various 
letters  and  requesting  their  continuance,  ending  with 
an  offer,  if  at  any  time  they  could  be  of  service 
to  us  in  the  way  of  giving  information  on  their 
market,  to  reciprocate. 

To  this  I  replied  with  a  request  that  the  monthly 
European  statistics,  which  the  firm  published,  should 
be  cabled  us  at  the  end  of  each  month  that  we  might 
publish  them  with  ours. 

This  request  was  complied  with,  and  thereafter 
we  kept  up  our  letters,  always  endeavoring  to  make 
them  more  interesting  and  occasionally  receiving 
brief  letters  in  acknowledgment. 

This  one-sided  correspondence  continued. for  sev- 
eral months,  then  I  wrote  that  we  purposed  forming 
a  London  connection  and  would  much  prefer  to  do 
so  with  their  firm  if  open  for  it.  If  not,  we  should 
of  course  be  compelled  to  cease  our  advices  and 
make  an  arrangement  with  some  other  firm. 

As  I  had  hoped,  the  taste  of  our  quality  had 
encouraged  an  appetite  for  more,  and  after  brief 
negotiations  an  arrangement  was  entered  into  by 
which  we  controlled  the  firm's  business  in  the  Amer- 
ican markets. 

It  proved  a  very  profitable  arrangement  for  both 
firms. 


94  A  Successful  Maneuver 

With  this  London  connection  secured  I  had  taken 
the  last  step  necessary  for  doing  business  on  the 
broadest  scale. 

The  wheel  had  been  built  starting  from  the  hub, 
the  tire  was  elastic,  and  as  the  spokes  lengthened 
the  circumference  became  so  large  that  we  were 
gathering  force  with  each  revolution  and  all  the  busi- 
ness in  sight  was  coming  our  way. 

Up  to  this  time  I  had  done  nothing  in  the  way 
of  seeking  speculative  customers  and  I  now  began 
to  think  seriously  of  doing  so. 

The  field  was  large,  the  only  difficulty  was  to  get 
people  who  had  been  accustomed  to  speculate  in 
grain,  cotton,  and  petroleum  to  try  a  new  commod- 
ity. I  knew  the  opportunities  for  money  making, 
but  it  was  necessary  to  convince  the  speculator  that 
the  chances  of  gain  were  better,  the  possibility  of  loss 
less  than  in  the  well-known  great  speculative  com- 
modities of  the  age. 

I  commenced  the  preparation  of  educational  litera- 
ture with  which  I  meant  to  circularize  the  country. 
I  did  not  want  the  small  fry,  the  little  speculator 
with  only  a  few  hundreds  or  thousands  of  dollars. 
What  I  was  after  was  men  of  financial  ability  and 
the  nerve  to  go  into  large  operations  and  see  them 
through  to  a  finish. 

Before  I  made  a  move,  our  first  speculative  client 
put  in  an  appearance. 

He  was  in  the  trade,  senior  partner  of  the  largest 
firm  in  Baltimore,  and  no  argument  from  us  was 


A  Successful  Maneuver  95 

necessary.  Calling  at  the  office  he  gave  us  an  order 
for  his  individual  account,  the  transaction  to  be  car- 
ried in  our  name. 

It  was  not  a  large  order,  the  margin  he  deposited 
with  us  being  but  two  thousand  dollars. 

When  the  transaction  was  closed  and  we  returned 
him  his  margin,  we  had  the  pleasure  of  including 
in  our  cheque  thirty-nine  hundred  dollars  profit, 
after  deducting  our  commissions,  which  amounted 
to  five  hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars. 

This  experience  gave  me  a  hint  I  was  quick  to 
take.  If  an  individual  member  of  one  firm  in  the 
trade  would  speculate,  why  not  members  of  other 
firms?  The  ethics  of  the  case,  the  propriety  of  a 
partner  speculating  on  his  own  account  in  a  com- 
modity in  which  his  firm  was  dealing,  did  not  con- 
cern me. 

Here  was  a  field  I  had  not  counted  on  and  I 
determined  to  explore  it  before  going  to  the  general 
public. 

I  had  one  hundred  letters  mailed  in  plain  envelopes 
to  individual  members  of  the  larger  firms  which  we 
were  regularly  selling.  The  result  astonished  me. 
This  was  in  December,  1881,  and  before  the  follow- 
ing February  sixty-seven  of  the  men  written  to  had 
accounts  on  our  books. 

Some  of  the  novel  experiences  in  this  branch  of 
the  business  will  be  related  in  a  later  chapter. 

As  I  had  anticipated,  1881  was  a  banner  year. 
My  profits  were  nearly  twenty-eight  thousand 
dollars. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

"REDSTONE" 

"Sunnyside"  had  become  too  small  for  us. 

Our  life  had  been  so  happy  there  we  could  not 
bear  to  think  of  leaving  it.  I  had  an  architect  look 
the  house  over  and  prepare  plans  for  an  extensive 
addition. 

This  was  done,  though  he  strongly  disadvised  it. 
I  could  not  but  admit  the  force  of  his  argument  that 
it  was  foolish,  regarded  from  an  investment  point  of 
view,  to  expend  on  the  place  the  amount  I  contem- 
plated. Far  better  to  sell  and  build  a  new  house  was 
his  opinion. 

Then  we  talked  of  moving  the  house  to  another 
plot  and  building  on  the  old  site.  To  this  there  were 
two  objections.  The  site  was  not  suitable  for  the 
style  of  house  I  wanted  and  there  was  too  little  land, 
with  no  opportunity  to  add  to  it  as  the  land  on  either 
side  was  already  occupied. 

The  matter  was  settled  by  the  appearance  of  a 
buyer  for  "Sunnyside,"  at  a  price  that  paid  me  a  fair 
profit,  and  I  made  the  sale  subject  to  possession 
being  given  when  the  new  house  was  completed. 

Within  a  stone's  throw  of  "Sunnyside"  was  a  plot 
of  land,  a  little  less  than  two  acres  in  extent,  that  we 


"Redstone"  97 

had  always  admired.  I  bought  the  land  for  five 
thousand  dollars  and  the  architect  commenced  at 
once  on  the  plans. 

We  thought  that  the  new  house  was  to  be  our 
home  for  the  rest  of  our  days  and  naturally  the 
greatest  interest  was  taken  in  every  detail.  The  first 
plans  submitted  were  satisfactory,  after  a  few  minor 
changes,  and  ground  was  broken  on  July  2,  1881. 
How  we  watched  the  progress. 

From  the  time  the  first  shovelful  of  earth  was 
taken  out  for  the  excavations  until  the  last  work  was 
finished,  not  a  day  passed  that  we  did  not  go  over 
it  all. 

"Redstone,"  taking  its  name  from  the  red  sand- 
stone of  which  it  was  built,  was  and  is  to-day  a  fine 
example  of  the  architecture  then  so  much  in  vogue 
for  country  houses. 

The  Matthews  house  on  Riverside  Drive,  New 
York  City,  so  much  admired,  was  designed  by  the 
same  architect  and  modelled  after  it. 

Standing  on  a  hill  its  three  massive  outside  chim- 
neys support  a  roof  of  graceful  outlines  and  gener- 
ous proportions.  From  the  three  second-story  bal- 
conies one  gets  views  near  and  distant  of  a  beautiful 
country.  The  fourteen-foot  wide  piazza  on  the  first 
floor,  extending  across  the  front  and  around  the 
tower,  with  its  stone  porte  cochere  and  entrance  arch 
is  most  inviting.  With  grounds  tastefully  laid  out, 
driveways  with  their  white-stone  paved  gutters,  cut- 
stone  steps  to  the  terraces,  great  trees  and  handsome 


98  ''Redstone" 

shrubs  the  place  was  a  delight  to  the  eye,  and  at  the 
time  of  which  I  write  there  was  nothing  to  compare 
with  it  in  that  section. 

Through  a  massive  doorway  one  enters  a  hall  of 
baronial  character,  thirty-three  feet  long,  eighteen 
feet  wide  and  twenty-one  feet  high,  finished  in  oak 
with  open  beam  ceilings  and  above  the  high  wainscot 
a  rough  wall  in  Pompeian  red. 

Two  features  of  the  hall  are  the  great  stone  fire- 
place with  its  old-fashioned  crane  and  huge  wrought 
iron  andirons  and  the  stained  glass  window  on  the 
staircase,  a  life-sized  figure  of  a  "Knight  of  Old." 

This  hall  was  illustrated  in  Appleton's  work  on 
"Artistic  Interiors." 

On  the  right  is  the  spacious  drawing-room  in  San 
Domingo  mahogany  and  rich  decorations  in  old  rose 
and  gold,  and  back  of  it  the  large  library  in  black 
walnut  with  its  beautifully  carved  mantel  and 
numerous  low  book-cases.  Then  came  the  dining- 
room  in  oak  and  Japanese  leather  and  a  fountain  in 
which  the  gold  fish  sported — but  enough  of  descrip- 
tion. This  was  our  home  and  when  we  had  com- 
pleted the  appointments  they  were  tasteful  and  in 
keeping. 

We  moved  in  on  April  28,  1882.  Here  then  we 
were  settled  for  life,  so  we  said.  If  a  new  painting 
was  hung  or  a  piece  of  marble  set  up  we  had  the 
thought  it  was  there  to  remain. 

We  loved  the  house  and  everything  in  it.  We 
loved  the  friends  we  had  made.  Our  life  was  all 
that  we  would  have  it — peaceful,  happy,  contented. 


"Redstone"  99 

My  craving  for  books  has  always  been  a  trait  in 
my  character  and  with  the  commencement  of  my 
prosperity  I  began  to  form  a  library.  I  had  no  taste 
for  rare  editions. 

My  model  for  a  book  is  convenient  size  for  read- 
ing, good  type  and  paper,  fine  binding,  and  illustra- 
tions, if  any,  the  best.  My  wife  was  in  full  accord 
with  me  in  this  as  in  everything.  Wedding  anni- 
versaries, birthdays  and  Christmas  always  brought 
me  from  her  something  choice  in  literature  and  I 
soon  had  hundreds  of  fine  volumes  of  standard 
works  on  my  shelves. 

They  were  not  allowed  to  remain  there  untouched. 
We  both  read  much  and  aimed  to  cultivate  the  taste 
in  our  children. 

For  autographs,  I  cared  not  as  a  collector,  but  I 
love  to  read  a  book  that  has,  bound  in,  an  autograph 
letter  from  the  author  or  from  some  character  in  the 
book.     Many  of  my  volumes  were  so  honored. 

Of  course  in  the  case  of  authors  of  a  past  genera- 
tion, these  letters  were  purchased,  but  most  living 
authors  of  my  time  were  good  enough  to  respond  to 
my  requests  with  a  personal  note  and  with  some  of 
them  I  enjoyed  an  acquaintance. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

OUR    NEIGHBORS 

When  we  moved  to  "Redstone"  we  had  been  resi- 
dents of  "Knollwood"  three  years,  long  enough  to 
become  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  character- 
istics of  each  individual  in  our  social  circle. 

While  with  all  our  relations  were  cordial,  it  is 
essential  in  this  narrative  to  refer  only  to  the  three 
families  with  which  we  formed  a  close  friendship. 
These  were  the  Woods,  Lawtons,  and  the  new 
owners  of  "Sunnyside,"  the  Slaters. 

Frank  Slater  was  a  partner  of  Mr.  Wood.  With- 
out exception  he  was  the  most  attractive  man  I  have 
ever  met.  Possessing  in  a  high  degree  every  attri- 
bute of  a  true  gentleman,  he  had  withal  a  genial, 
winning  way  that  was  peculiarly  his  own  and  made 
every  one  who  knew  him  his  friend.  We  were 
drawn  to  each  other  at  once  and  soon  became  most 
intimate.  His  wife,  a  woman  charming  in  every 
way,  became  my  wife's  intimate  friend. 

Charlie  Wood  was  rather  a  queer  combination. 

That  we  were  fond  of  him  and  he  of  us  there  is 
no  doubt,  but  he  was  a  man  of  moods.  Intellectual, 
a  good  talker,  and  an  unusually  fine  vocalist,  his 


Our  Neighbors  101 

society  as  a  rule  was  very  enjoyable,  but  there  were 
times  when  in  a  certain  mood  he  was  neither  a 
pleasant  nor  cheerful  companion. 

Perhaps  a  remark  which  he  made  to  me  one  day 
at  "Sunnyside"  will  show  better  than  anything  I  can 
write  the  true  inwardness  of  the  man. 

We  were  discussing  some  business  affair  of  his, 
over  which  he  was  feeling  blue.  I  was  trying  to 
cheer  him  up,  when  he  said,  "I  tell  you,  Walter,  I 
could  be  perfectly  contented  and  happy,  no  matter 
how  little  money  I  had,  if  everybody  around  me  had 
just  a  little  less." 

Mrs.  Wood  was  the  least  attractive  of  the  ladies, 
not  in  appearance,  for  she  was  regarded  as  a  pretty 
woman;  but  in  her  the  spirit  of  envy  and  selfishness 
was  too  well  developed  to  make  her  lovable  to  her 
friends. 

George  Lawton,  a  jolly,  good-natured  fellow,  was 
liked  by  everybody,  and  his  wife,  a  pleasant,  cheer- 
ful, good-hearted  little  woman,  was  equally  popular. 

The  Lawtons  were  the  least  prosperous  of  any  of 
our  little  circle.  George  was  always  just  a  little 
behind  in  his  finances,  but  so  constituted  that  this 
did  not  worry  him. 

The  time  will  come  in  this  narrative  when  the 
author  will  be  upon  the  defensive  and  he  deems  it 
necessary  that  his  readers  should  fully  understand 
certain  relations  existing  within  this  circle  of  friends, 
even  though,  that  they  shall  do  so,  he  is  compelled 


102  Our  Neighbors 

to  violate  the  scriptural  injunction,  "Let  not  thy  left 
hand  know  what  thy  right  hand  doeth."* 

The  Woods  and  Lawtons  came  to  Knollwood 
together.  They  were  intimate  friends  before  that 
time.  Not  one  detail  of  the  affairs  or  life  of  one 
but  was  known  to  the  other.  It  was  the  same  as 
one  family  only  under  two  roofs. 

George  Lawton  was  always  in  need  of  money. 
His  expenditures  exceeded  his  earnings  year  after 
year  and  he  borrowed  to  make  up  the  deficiency. 
Wood  was  as  well  able  as  I  to  loan  him  the  money 
and  as  a  closer  and  an  older  friend  should  have  been 
the  one  to  do  it. 

On  the  train  one  day,  when  sitting  together  he 
said  to  me,  "Walter,  how  much  does  George  owe 
you?"  To  which  I  replied,  "Oh,  a  small  matter." 
It  was  at  that  time  nearly  six  hundred  dollars. 
"Well,"  he  said,  "I  am  glad  you  can  help  him  out, 
but  he  don't  get  into  me  more  than  two  hundred 
dollars ;  that's  the  limit,  for  I  doubt  if  he  ever  pays 
it  back." 

I  went  on  with  my  loans  just  the  same,  and  when, 
some  years  later,  the  family  left  Knollwood  he  owed 


*Under  ordinary  conditions  the  author  would  never  think  of 
advertising  to  the  world  the  good  that  he  has  done.  Before  the 
conclusion  of  this  narrative  there  will  be  much  that  is  far  re- 
moved from  the  ordinary.  Errors  to  atone  for,  misunderstand- 
ings to  explain,  false  innuendoes  and  charges  to  indignantly 
deny  and  disprove.  It  is  the  narrative  of  a  life  and  the  good 
in  that  life  is  certainly  a  part  of  it.  In  later  chapters,  when  cer- 
tain matters  are  set  forth,  my  readers  will  be  good  enough  to 
bear  this  in  mind. 


Our  Neighbors  103 

me  more  than  two  thousand  dollars  that  had  been 
borrowed  in  small  amounts. 

At  one  time  George  was  fortunate  in  getting 
an  interest  in  a  patent  motor  for  use  on  sewing 
machines.  He  told  Wood  all  about  it  and  of  one 
weak  feature  in  connection  with  the  battery,  which, 
however,  he  thought  was  about  overcome. 

Without  telling  George,  Wood  at  a  small  expense 
employed  a  man  who  succeeded  in  perfecting  the 
battery,  then  going  to  George,  said:  "You  cannot 
use  your  motor  without  my  battery.  I  will  turn  it 
over  to  you  for  half  your  interest." 

There  was  no  escape,  and  though  George  made 
some  thousands  out  of  his  interest  his  profits  were 
cut  in  half  by  the  shrewdness  of  his  friend. 

He  never  said  much  about  it,  but  his  mother,  who 
resided  with  him,  was  very  outspoken  on  the  subject. 

In  1883,  in  connection  with  my  business,  I  estab- 
lished a  trade  journal.  After  running  it  a  few  years 
I  could  no  longer  spare  the  time.  It  was  then  pay- 
ing about  eighteen  hundred  dollars  a  year  profit  and 
was  capable  of  doing  better.  I  offered  it  to  George 
Lawton,  telling  him  if  he  ever  felt  he  could  pay  me  a 
thousand  dollars  for  it,  to  do  so. 

The  day  I  turned  it  over  to  him  I  gave  him  a  few 
hundred  dollars,  remittances  for  advertising  received 
that  morning.  In  a  few  years  he  sold  the  paper,  and 
in  one  way  and  another  he  secured  twelve  thousand 
to  fifteen  thousand  dollars  out  of  it. 

He  never  paid  me  one  dollar  for  the  property,  nor 
did  I  demand  it  of  him. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

AN    UNEVENTFUL   YEAR 

The  year  1883  was  uneventful. 

At  home,  life  moved  on  serenely  in  its  accustomed 
channels.  We  were  very  happy  and  did  all  we  could 
to  make  others  so. 

For  the  summer  months,  thinking  that  a  change 
might  be  good  for  the  children,  we  rented  a  cottage 
at  Oyster  Bay.  This  was  a  pleasant  experience,  but 
we  were  glad  to  get  home  early  in  the  fall.  Our 
elder  son  was  now  nearly  ten  years  old,  the  school 
at  Knollwood  was  not  satisfactory,  and  we  entered 
him  at  the  Academy  at  Media,  Pennsylvania.  His 
mother  and  I  went  over  with  him,  and  though  the 
little  fellow  was  brave  enough  to  keep  a  stiff  upper 
lip  when  we  said  good-by,  I  knew  he  was  homesick, 
and  so  were  we.  It  was  a  very  hard  strain  to  leave 
him  behind  us. 

Business  had  fallen  off  a  little  during  the  first  halt 
of  the  year,  but  this  was  made  up  later  and  I  did 
about  as  well  as  in  the  year  previous,  making  a  little 
over  twenty-five  thousand  dollars. 

I  had  taken  no  further  steps  toward  seeking  specu- 
lative clients,  as  the  trade  speculators  who  had  come 


An  Uneventful  Year  105 

in  were  sufficient  in  number  to  absorb  all  that  class 
of  business  I  cared  for  in  the  market  conditions  then 
existing. 

Some  of  the  incidents  in  that  business  are  well 
worth  relating. 

We  had  one  case  where  the  president  of  one  of 
the  largest  manufacturing  concerns  in  Connecticut 
was  the  client.  His  concern  was  a  regular  customer 
of  ours  and  we  were  carrying  for  him  some  specu- 
lative contracts  not  yet  matured.  The  market  was 
against  him  a  few  thousand  dollars,  and  when  he 
called  one  day  I  suggested  his  buying  an  additional 
quantity  at  the  lower  price  to  average  his  holdings. 
"Average  nothing,"  said  he,  "if  when  that  stuff 
comes  in  there  is  any  loss  on  it,  I  bought  it  for  the 
company." 

There  was  a  loss  and  under  his  instructions  we 
made  delivery  to  the  company.  This  looked  like  a 
"heads  I  win,  tails  you  lose"  sort  of  game  for  him, 
but  as  he  owned  most  of  the  stock  in  the  company 
it  was  very  like  taking  money  out  of  one  pocket  and 
putting  it  in  the  other. 

Another  episode,  still  more  peculiar,  was  in  the 
case  of  the  firm  of  A  &  B. 

The  firm  had  placed  in  our  hands  for  discretionary 
sale  a  parcel  of  fifty  tons  due  to  arrive  in  November. 

Shortly  after  A  called  at  the  office  and  gave  us  an 
order  to  sell  for  his  individual  account  fifty  tons 
November  delivery.  He  was  a  bear  and  it  was  a 
short  sale. 


106  An  Uneventful  Year 

The  same  day  and  before  the  sale  had  been  made 
B  called  and  gave  us  an  order  to  buy  him  fifty  tons 
November  delivery.     He  was  a  bull. 

Both  requested  that  his  partner  should  not  be  in- 
formed of  the  transaction.  We  matched  the  orders, 
selling  for  A  to  B.  A  closed  his  transaction  first, 
and  to  cover  his  sale  we  sold  him  the  lot  belonging 
to  his  own  firm.  This  was  to  be  delivered  to  B  and 
we  then  sold  it  for  him. 

Thus  we  had  made  commissions  on  sales  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  tons  where  there  was  only  fifty 
tons  of  actual  stuff,  the  rest  all  book-keeping. 

In  all  the  years  in  which  we  handled  this  business 
we  had  but  one  unpleasant  experience  in  connection 
with  it. 

The  treasurer  of  a  manufacturing  concern  had 
been  dealing  with  us  on  his  own  account  for  some 
months,  always  with  profit  to  himself.  The  day 
came  when  he  was  not  so  fortunate.  The  market 
was  against  him  and  we  called  on  him  for  additional 
margin.  He  asked  for  a  few  days'  time,  and  as  we 
had  every  reason  to  suppose  he  was  responsible  we 
granted  it.  Meanwhile,  the  market  further  declined, 
and  when  he  put  in  an  appearance  at  our  office  his 
account  was  about  three  thousand  dollars  short. 

To  our  surprise  he  said  he  could  not  pay  a  dollar. 

When  asked  where  all  the  profits  we  had  paid  him 
had  gone  he  replied  : 

"Wall  Street." 

The  man  died  shortly  after,  and  although  we 
heard  he  left  an  estate  of  fifty  thousand  dollars,  he 
also  left  a  large  family  and  we  waived  our  claim. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  STREAM  BROADENS 

At  the  beginning  of  1884  our  business  was  increas- 
ing so  rapidly  it  became  necessary  to  have  a  larger 
office  force  to  handle  it.  Orders  poured  in  day 
after  day  and  it  was  evident  we  were  getting  the 
preference  from  all  the  large  and  most  of  the  small 
buyers  throughout  the  country. 

It  had  been  our  policy  to  give  just  as  careful  atten- 
tion to  the  small  business  as  to  that  of  more  import- 
ance, but  we  now  began  to  consider  the  wisdom  of 
letting  the  former  go.  In  the  aggregate  it  was  a 
handsome  business  of  itself,  but  in  detail  it  required 
so  much  time  and  attention,  it  was  a  question  in  my 
mind  whether  it  paid  us  to  longer  cater  to  it. 

That  the  future  had  a  much  larger  business  in 
store  for  us  we  felt  assured  and  we  wanted  to  get 
ready  for  it  in  advance  of  its  coming.  Gradually 
we  commenced  to  weed  out  the  little  fellows. 

Some  of  these  small  concerns  had  become  so  accus- 
tomed to  sending  us  their  orders  and  were  so  well 
satisfied  with  the  way  we  had  treated  them  that  they 
objected  strongly  to  being  turned  down.  Still,  we 
were  in  the  line  of  progress  and  had  outgrown  that 
class. 


108  The  Stream  Broadens 

The  argument  we  gave  them  was,  that  as  we  were 
selling  the  large  dealers  so  extensively,  it  was  unfair 
for  us  to  take  this  small  business,  which  ought  to 
go  to  the  dealers  without  the  interposition  of  a 
broker.  Ultimately  we  succeeded  in  getting  most 
of  them  off  our  books  without  any  hard  feeling. 

That  we  were  wise  in  ridding  ourselves  of  this 
small  trade  was  soon  evident.  It  strengthened  us 
greatly  with  the  large  dealers,  who  now  secured 
most  of  it  direct,  and  that  we  could  afford  to  part 
with  so  many  customers,  small  though  they  were, 
added  much  to  our  prestige. 

With  more  time  now  at  my  disposal  I  mapped  out 
a  campaign  having  for  its  objective  the  gathering 
of  a  speculative  clientele. 

The  first  step  was  the  sending  of  a  carefully  pre- 
pared letter  to  a  dozen  or  so  of  the  wealthiest  men 
in  New  York.  No  replies  were  received.  Probably 
their  secretaries  tossed  them  in  the  waste-basket  with 
many  others.  I  know  now  better  than  I  did  then 
that  the  mail  of  even  moderately  rich  men  is  crowded 
with  schemes. 

A  second  lot  of  letters  was  mailed  to  men  a  grade 
lower  in  wealth.  Some  of  these  brought  replies  but 
no  business.  We  tried  a  third  lot,  this  time  to  men 
estimated  at  half  a  million  to  a  million ;  same  result. 

That  settled  it  as  far  as  New  York  was  concerned. 
Evidently  the  rich  men  of  New  York  did  not  want 
to  speculate  in  our  commodity.  Well,  fortunately 
we  could  get  on  without  them. 


The  Stream  Broadens  109 

Now  for  the  broader  field.  We  had  one  thousand 
letters  prepared  and  mailed  at  one  time.  These  were 
addressed  to  a  list  of  alleged  wealthy  out-of-town 
investors,  which  we  had  purchased  from  an  address- 
ing agency.    Not  one  single  reply  did  we  receive. 

Then  we  took  our  "Bradstreet's"  and  at  random 
selected  the  names  of  five  hundred  firms,  scattered 
over  the  United  States,  rating  not  less  than  five  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars.  The  letters  were  addressed 
to  the  senior  partner  of  each  firm.  Before  the  end 
of  the  year  nearly  two  hundred  of  those  men  were 
on  our  books.    Every  one  of  them  made  money. 

This  constituency  was  sufficient  for  the  time  being. 
I  had  in  mind  something  on  a  much  larger  scale,  the 
forming  of  a  syndicate;  but  that  is  another  story 
and  belongs  to  a  later  period. 

Toward  the  latter  part  of  the  year  there  was  a 
falling  off  in  our  trade  with  the  consumers,  owing 
to  a  period  of  dullness  in  the  manufacturing  indus- 
tries; but  what  we  lost  in  this  way  was  more  than 
offset  by  the  gain  accruing  from  the  business  with 
speculative  clients. 

On  December  31st  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
ing that  for  the  first  time  my  profits  for  a  single  year 
exceeded  thirty  thousand  dollars. 

In  my  home  life  there  had  been  nothing  to  mar 
in  the  slightest  degree  its  serenity  and  delight;  in- 
deed, our  happiness  had  been  increased  on  the  ninth 
of  June  by  the  arrival  of  our  third  daughter. 


CHAPTER  XX 

RETROGRESSION 

Although  the  conditions  of  general  business  were 
unsatisfactory  at  the  beginning  of  1885  and  I  had 
much  doubt  of  the  year  proving  as  profitable  as  the 
one  previous,  I  never  dreamed  of  such  a  falling  off 
as  actually  occurred. 

Our  legitimate  trade,  that  carried  on  with  dealers 
and  consumers,  we  thought  would  be  poor  for  some 
months,  as  it  had  been  over-done,  and  all  our  cus- 
tomers were  well  supplied  with  spot  stock,  as  also 
contracts  for  future  delivery ;  but  the  speculative  ele- 
ment we  relied  on  to  compensate  us  for  this. 

Our  clients  had  done  well  and  we  expected  they 
would  continue  their  operations.  We  did  not  in  our 
calculations  make  allowance  for  the  fact  that  these 
men  were  all  in  active  business.  As  a  rule,  such 
men  do  not  go  into  outside  matters  when  their  own 
business  is  dull  or  unprofitable.  It  is  in  good  times, 
when  they  are  making  money,  that  they  enter  the 
speculative  field. 

Before  the  winter  was  over  our  books  were  en- 
tirely cleared  of  speculative  contracts. 


Retrogression  111 

We  thought  of  making  efforts  to  secure  new  cus- 
tomers but  decided  it  would  at  that  time  be  useless, 
for  if  men  who  knew  the  business  and  had  made 
money  at  it  were  unwilling  to  go  on,  it  was  hardly 
possible  to  enlist  the  interest  of  people  who  knew 
nothing  about  it. 

Month  after  month  I  saw  the  business  decrease, 
but  took  it  philosophically.  I  could  afford  to  wait 
for  better  times  and  meanwhile  did  not  worry,  know- 
ing that  we  were  getting  more  than  our  share  of 
what  business  there  was. 

These  dull  times  were  not  without  their  compen- 
sation. 

They  brought  me  the  opportunity  to  go  off  with 
my  wife  on  little  trips  of  a  few  days'  duration.  What 
delightful  trips  those  were!  Newport,  Narrangan- 
sett,  Nantasket,  Swampscott,  Manchester-by-the-sea, 
Newcastle,  and  all  the  pretty  places  accessible  via 
Fall  River  boats — these  were  the  most  attractive,  for 
we  enjoyed  the  sail  and  disliked  train  travel  in  warm 
weather.  Frequently  some  of  our  friends  accom- 
panied us,  but  oftener  we  went  alone. 

What  jolly  times  we  had ! 

Then  too  in  this  dull  year  I  made  my  business  days 
shorter,  a  late  train  in  the  morning  and  an  early  one 
home  in  the  afternoon  giving  me  so  much  more  time 
with  my  family. 

Oh,  it  was  a  great  year ! 

For  better  times  I  could  wait  with  patience.  I  was 
not  money-mad,  not  eager  for  the  accumulation  of 
great  wealth ;  my  real  fortune  I  had  already  gained 


112  Retrogression 

in  the  wealth  of  love  bestowed  upon  me  by  the 
woman  I  adored.  I  valued  money  for  the  good  it 
would  do,  the  comfort  and  pleasure  it  would  bring 
to  those  I  loved ;  but  for  the  reputation  of  having  it, 
not  at  all. 

I  wanted  to  succeed.    I  felt  I  had  succeeded. 

In  my  twentieth  year  under  the  largest  salary  I 
was  ever  paid,  my  income  was  five  hundred  dollars — 
in  my  thirty-fourth  year  it  was  thirty  thousand  and 
earned  by  my  own  efforts,  out  of  a  business  that  I 
alone  had  created ;  for  the  business  of  that  time  bore 
no  relation  whatever  to  the  one  in  which  I  succeeded 
my  old  employer.  Surely  I  had  cause  for  congratu- 
lation, no  matter  how  dull  business  might  be  for  the 
time  being. 

Knollwood  had  been  growing  these  years  with 
astonishing  rapidity,  and  our  social  circle  was  now 
a  fairly  large  one. 

The  characteristics,  so  attractive  the  first  year  of 
our  residence  there,  were  still  unchanged.  The  new- 
comers were  all  nice  people  and  the  right  hand  of 
good-fellowship  was  extended  and  accepted  in  the 
true  spirit. 

In  addition  to  the  many  beautiful  new  houses 
there  had  been  erected  a  small  but  very  pretty  stone 
church  of  Episcopalian  denomination. 

At  the  time  the  building  of  the  church  was 
planned,  I  remember  a  conversation  on  the  subject 
that  afterwards  seemed  prophetic. 

I  was  talking  on  the  train  with  a  gentleman,  an 
officer  of  the  New  York  Life  Insurance  Company, 


Retrogression  113 

who,  while  he  did  not  reside  in  the  Park,  lived  in 
the  vicinity  and  mingled  socially  with  our  people. 
I  told  him  we  were  going  to  build  a  church. 
"What?"  he  said.  "Don't  do  it;  you  have  a  charm- 
ing social  circle  now  that  will  surely  be  ruined  if 
you  do."  I  expressed  surprise  at  his  remark,  and 
he  only  shook  his  head  and  with  more  earnestness 
added,  "Mark  my  words,  that  church  will  be  the 
commencement  of  social  trouble;  cliques  will  form, 
friction  and  gossip  will  arise,  and  your  delightful 
social  life  will  be  a  thing  of  the  past." 

It  is  a  fact  that  his  words  came  true,  and  yet  I 
contributed  to  the  cost  of  the  building  and  support 
of  the  church,  and  under  the  same  conditions  would 
do  it  again. 

At  the  end  of  December  I  found  my  income  had 
been  cut  in  half.  I  had  made  but  fifteen  thousand 
dollars,  but  the  year  had  been  so  enjoyable  in  my 
homelife  I  was  entirely  satisfied.  The  additional 
time  dull  business  had  permitted  me  to  spend  with 
my  family  was  worth  all  it  cost. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  DAM   GIVES   WAY 

Dull  business,  the  dam  which  checked  the  onward 
flow  of  the  stream  of  our  prosperity  in  1885,  was 
slowly  but  steadily  carried  away  in  the  early  months 
of  1886.  Consumers  and  dealers  again  became  lib- 
eral buyers  and  their  lead  was  soon  followed  by  the 
speculative  fraternity.  Our  office  was  crowded  with 
business  and  a  further  increase  in  the  clerical  force 
was  imperative.  Long  hours  and  hard  work  was 
the  rule,  while  resulting  profits  continually  mount- 
ing higher  was  the  reward. 

Our  customers  as  a  class  were  a  fine  lot  of  men, 
all  of  substantial  means,  most  of  them  wealthy. 
We  had  no  friction,  we  were  popular  with  all,  and 
other  things  being  equal  we  commanded  the  prefer- 
ence from  almost  the  entire  trade. 

Of  course,  some  competition  had  developed — our 
success  was  sure  to  attract  it;  but  it  was  still  of 
insignificant  proportions,  and  we  gave  it  no  thought. 
We  had  been  first  in  the  field  and  our  position  was 
well  entrenched. 

As  to  the  speculative  branch,  there  we  had  no  com- 
petition. It  required  banking  facilities  and  credit  to 
do  that  business.    Our  competitors  had  neither,  while 


The  Dam  Gives  Way  115 

we  were  prepared  to  handle  any  proposition  that 
might  be  presented,  regardless  of  the  amount  of 
money  involved. 

Our  London  connection  had  now  become  very  val- 
uable to  us  and  was  the  source  of  a  good  proportion 
of  our  profits.  Business  between  the  two  markets 
was  of  almost  daily  occurrence,  while  the  quantities 
dealt  in  were  large.  Our  speculative  customers  were 
of  great  help  to  us  in  this  direction  and  indeed  we 
could  not  have  properly  taken  care  of  them  if  we 
had  depended  on  the  New  York  market  alone.  They 
had  increased  in  numbers,  and  finding  the  business 
profitable  their  individual  operations  became  more 
important. 

How  true  it  is  that  "nothing  succeeds  like 
success." 

Our  success  had  become  known  by  this  time,  not 
only  to  every  one  in  the  trade,  but  also  to  many  out- 
side of  it.  Large  banking  houses,  known  to  us  at 
that  time  only  by  reputation,  sought  our  business, 
offering  most  flattering  terms  and  unusual  facilities. 
Friends,  acquaintances,  and  not  a  few  strangers 
begged  of  us  to  accept  large  amounts  of  money  for 
speculative  operations  at  our  discretion.  Large  con- 
sumers discontinued  asking  us  for  quotations  and 
sent  us  their  orders  without  limit  as  to  price.  So 
great  was  the  confidence  of  the  consuming  trade  in 
our  judgment  that  a  letter  from  us  advising  them  to 
cover  their  requirements  for  any  specified  period 
never  failed  to  bring  the  orders. 


116  The  Dam  Gives  Way 

With  our  speculative  clients  this  was  even  more 
pronounced.  We  had  but  to  say  "Buy,"  and  they 
bought;  "Sell,"  and  they  sold.  All  this  was  a 
great  responsibility  and  we  realized  it,  never  forget- 
ting that  only  the  utmost  conservatism  would 
maintain  our  position.  That  I  was  proud  of  that 
position  was  only  natural. 

Business  activity  was  maintained  until  the  close 
of  the  year,  and  again  I  had  made  a  record.  My 
profits  were  thirty-six  thousand  dollars. 

Our  social  life  at  Knollwood  this  year  had  been 
going  on  at  a  rapid  pace  and  its  more  formal  char- 
acter began  to  take  shape. 

The  frequent  pleasant  little  dinner-parties  of  four 
to  six  couples,  where  bright  and  entertaining  conver- 
sation was  general,  had  gone  through  a  course  of 
evolution  and  become  functions  where  two  or  three 
times  the  number  sat  at  the  board  and  struggled 
through  so  many  courses  that  one  became  wearied  of 
sitting  still.  Those  enjoyable  amateur  dramatic 
performances,  followed  by  light  refreshment  and  a 
couple  of  hours'  dancing,  had  been  displaced  by  the 
grand  ball  with  its  elaborate  supper.  But  there  still 
remained  one  feature,  unique  and  delightful : 

The  New  Year  reception — every  New  Year's  day 
for  many  years  a  reception  was  held  at  the  Casino. 
The  residents,  loaning  from  their  homes  rugs,  dra- 
peries, paintings,  statuary,  and  fine  furniture,  trans- 
formed that  large  auditorium  into  an  immense 
drawing-room.  The  green-houses  contributed  palms 
and  blooming  plants  in  profusion.     In  the  enormous 


The  Dam  Gives  Way  117 

fire-place  burned  great  logs.  At  one  end  of  the 
room  a  long  table  from  which  was  served,  as  wanted, 
all  that  could  be  desired  by  the  inner  man.  The 
stage,  set  with  a  pretty  garden  scene  and  rattan  fur- 
niture, where  the  men  lounged  as  they  had  their 
smoke.  Music  by  a  fine  orchestra,  interspersed  with 
occasional  songs  by  our  own  local  talent. 

The  reception  was  from  six  until  nine,  then  the 
rugs  were  gathered  up,  the  furniture  moved  from 
the  center  of  the  floor,  and  dancing  was  enjoyed 
until  midnight. 

For  miles  around,  every  one  that  was  eligible 
never  failed  to  be  present  on  those  occasions.  It 
was  the  one  great  social  event  of  each  year,  and  long 
after  the  circle  was  broken  the  custom  was  still  kept 
up,  until  finally  it  died  out  owing  to  the  indifference 
of  the  new-comers.  For  such  a  community  it  was  a 
beautiful  custom  and  in  its  inception  served  to 
cement  the  spirit  of  cordiality  and  good-will. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE   CALM    BEFORE  THE   STORM 

The  new  year  opened  as  the  old  had  closed,  with 
marked  activity  in  all  branches  of  my  business ;  nor 
was  there  any  perceptible  change  until  late  in  the 
spring,  then  began  a  gradually  diminishing  demand 
that  made  a  comparatively  dull  summer.  Not  but 
what  there  was  a  fair  amount  of  business  doing  all 
the  time,  but  the  great  rush  was  over. 

It  was  only  the  calm  before  the  storm.  Early  in 
the  fall  it  became  evident  to  me  there  was  a  new 
factor  in  the  market.  Somebody,  outside  the  regular 
trade,  was  quietly  buying  up  the  odd  lots  floating 
around. 

The  buying  was  not  aggressive,  far  from  it. 
Whoever  was  buying  wanted  the  stuff,  not  a  higher 
market.  The  greatest  caution  was  observed  in  mak- 
ing the  purchases  so  that  the  market  might  be  af- 
fected as  little  as  possible.  Every  effort  was  made 
to  conceal  the  source  from  which  the  demand  ema- 
nated. I  knew  it  was  not  from  any  of  the  New  York 
trade,  and  I  could  not  believe,  judging  from  the 
broker  who  was  doing  the  buying,  that  it  could  be 


The  Calm  Before  the  Storm  119 

for  account  of  any  American  speculator.  If  I  was 
right  in  this  conclusion,  then  of  necessity  it  must  be 
for  foreign  account. 

In  order  that  my  readers  shall  fully  understand 
what  follows  it  is  necessary  they  should  know  the 
basis  of  our  arrangement  with  our  London  friends, 
which  was  this : 

They  were  to  cable  us  daily  limits  for  buying  or 
selling  as  the  case  might  be.  These  limits  included 
our  commission.  We  were  to  guarantee  our  cus- 
tomers, that  is  to  say,  the  London  firm  took  no  risk 
of  buyers.  If  we  were  to  sell  a  parcel  for  future 
delivery  and  before  the  delivery  was  made  our  cus- 
tomer should  fail  we  would  have  to  stand  the  loss, 
if  any,  on  the  re-sale. 

A  few  months  after  the  connection  was  established 
the  firm  found  fault  because  so  little  business  was 
done,  while  in  many  cases  the  limit  was  so  close  to 
the  market  that  only  the  commission  or  part  of  it 
stood  in  the  way  of  a  sale. 

The  original  arrangement  was  then  qualified  and 
thereafter  the  limits  were  sent  net,  it  being  under- 
stood that  when  necessary  we  would  sell  at  limit,  that 
is,  do  the  business  for  nothing;  but  to  offset  this 
concession,  we  were  at  all  times  to  have  for  our 
commission  all  we  could  get  over  the  limit. 

It  proved  a  most  fortunate  change  for  us. 

The  buying  continued  and  the  market  moved 
slowly  toward  a  higher  level.  After  a  few  days 
steady  buying  there  would  be  a  cessation  for  a  day 
or  two  to  allow  the  market  to  sag,  then  it  would 


120  The  Calm  Before  the  Storm 

commence  again.  The  principal  sellers  were  our 
London  friends,  and  though  we  were  earning  many 
commissions  we  felt  that  our  friends  were  making  a 
mistake  and  not  gauging  the  market  correctly. 

At  this  time  our  Boston  correspondent  offered  us 
one  hundred  tons  to  arrive  by  a  sailing  vessel  due  in 
about  three  months.  We  secured  refusal  over  night 
and  cabled  the  offer  to  London,  advising  the  pur- 
chase and  expressing  fully  our  opinion  of  the  market. 

The  following  morning  I  sat  at  my  desk,  and 
opening  a  cable  read,  "Market  advanced  through 
operations  of  a  few  weak  French  speculators."  Then 
followed  a  selling  limit.  I  laid  the  cable  down  and 
took  up  the  Boston  telegram  offering  the  hundred 
tons. 

With  the  exception  of  my  small  interest  in  that 
purchase  in  January,  1880,  I  had  refrained  from 
speculation,  and  now  I  was  considering  whether  or 
not  I  should  buy  those  hundred  tons.  The  option 
had  nearly  expired  and  action  must  be  prompt.  Call- 
ing a  stenographer  I  dictated  a  telegram,  "We  ac- 
cept"— and  the  deed  was  done. 

On  arrival  of  the  vessel  I  sold  out  at  a  profit  of 
twenty  thousand  dollars. 

My  profits  for  the  year  were  sixty-one  thousand 
dollars. 

On  February  fourteenth,  as  a  valentine,  there  came 
to  "Redstone"  our  fourth  daughter  and  the  family 
circle  was  complete.  With  two  sons  and  four  daugh- 
ters, the  ban  of  "race  suicide,"  theory  of  President 
Roosevelt,  rests  not  on  us.l/ 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

rA    FEW    WEAK    FRENCH    SPECULATORS' 


Just  outside  of  the  city  of  Paris  was  located  one 
of  the  largest,  most  complete  manufacturing  plants 
in  the  world,  doing  an  enormous  business,  employ- 
ing an  army  of  skilled  artisans,  consuming  vast 
quantities  of  raw  material  and  making  in  profits  a 
fortune  every  year. 

The  controlling  interest  was  a  man  of  large  wealth 
estimated  at  sixty  millions  of  francs,  and  of  national 
reputation.  His  gallery  of  paintings  was  famous 
in  art  circles  the  world  over.  His  family  moved  in 
the  highest  strata  of  society  and  in  their  magnificent 
home  entertained  with  regal  splendor.  The  man 
was  universally  respected  in  business,  in  art,  and 
social  circles. 

On  the  board  of  directors  of  one  of  the  great 
Paris  banks  were  two  other  men,  almost  equal  in 
wealth  and  station  to  this  manufacturer. 

These  three  men,  with  a  few  associates  of  minor 
importance,  entered  into  a  hare-brained  scheme  of 
speculation  in  our  commodity,  that  in  the  very  nature 
of  things  was  bound  to  terminate  in  complete  failure. 
When  they  realized  this  and  the  enormous  losses 
which  had  been  entailed,  in  an  effort  to  recoup  they 


122         "A  Few  Weak  French  Speculators" 

took  up  another  commodity,  and  then  followed  the 
wildest  speculation,  in  any  merchandise,  that  the 
world  had  ever  seen. 

When  the  final  crash  came,  with  their  own  mag- 
nificent fortunes  swept  away  and  the  bank  involved, 
the  two  directors  found  suicide's  graves,  and  the 
other  man  went  to  prison. 

Oh,  the  folly  of  it!  This  passion  and  greed  for 
wealth. 

"Market  advanced  through  operations  of  a  few 
weak  French  speculators" — so  read  our  cable.  It 
seemed  to  us  that  their  strength  was  far  more  in 
evidence  than  their  weakness,  indeed  of  the  latter 
we  could  detect  no  sign.  They  had  by  their  pur- 
chases advanced  the  market  already  fifteen  or  twenty 
per  cent,  and  they  continued  buying  in  all  the  world's 
markets,  at  advancing  prices,  everything  that  was 
offered. 

The  increased  price  was  commencing  to  tell  on 
consumption.  Dealers  and  consumers  ceased  buying 
until  their  surplus  stocks  had  become  exhausted,  and 
then  bought  in  small  lots  only  as  they  were  com- 
pelled to.  Meanwhile,  stocks  in  the  hands  of  the 
syndicate  were  accumulating  rapidly  with  no  visible 
outlet  for  reducing  them. 

A  feature  in  the  trade  which  alone  should  have 
been  sufficient  to  prevent  men  of  brains  from  going 
into  such  an  operation  was  that  the  production  could 
not  be  contracted  for  in  advance.  The  high  price 
stimulated  production  and  day  after  day  the  syndi- 


"A  Few  Weak  French  Speculators"         123 

cate  had  to  buy  in  the  producing  markets  large  quan- 
tities at  current  prices.  These  purchases  at  such 
high  figures  rapidly  increased  the  average  cost  of 
the  holdings. 

The  market  advanced  by  leaps  and  bounds,  until 
finally  the  price  in  London  reached  one  hundred  and 
sixty-seven  pounds  sterling  per  ton,  with  an  equiv- 
alent value  in  all  other  markets.  This  represented 
an  advance  of  more  than  one  hundred  per  cent. 

Then  the  members  of  the  syndicate  awakened  from 
their  pleasant  dream  to  find  a  nightmare. 

The  hand  of  every  man  in  the  trade  throughout 
the  world  was  raised  against  them.  They  were  in 
the  meshes  of  an  endless  chain.  For  every  ton  they 
could  sell  they  must  buy  five,  or  more,  in  order  to 
sustain  the  price.  If  they  stopped  buying,  even  for 
a  single  day,  the  bottom  would  drop  out.  What 
was  to  be  done  ? 

In  Wales  was  an  industry,  comprising  many  mills, 
that  in  the  aggregate  consumed  large  quantities  of 
the  article.  The  business  had  become  almost  para- 
lyzed by  the  advance,  and  many  mills  were  about  to 
or  had  closed  down.  A  representative  of  the  syndi- 
cate communicated  with  all  these  mills  and  nego- 
tiated a  contract  for  supplies  covering  requirements 
to  April  30,  1888. 

The  only  possible  way  of  making  such  a  contract 
was  by  guaranteeing  that  the  spot  market  should  not 
fall  below  the  price  then  ruling.  This  meant  that 
every  day  the  syndicate  must  bid  £167  per  ton  for 
all  the  spot  stuff  the  market  would  sell — but,   it 


124         "A  Few  Weak  French  Speculators" 

stopped  buying  futures.  As  fast  as  the  stuff  could 
be  brought  to  market  it  had  to  take  it,  but  only  as  it 
arrived. 

That  was  the  first  step.  But  there  was  still  an 
enormous  stock  to  be  disposed  of,  together  with  all 
that  would  have  to  be  taken,  up  to  the  end  of  April. 
How  was  that  to  be  sold  ? 

Our  London  friends  had  fought  the  syndicate 
from  the  start  with  the  utmost  vigor.  The  plan  of 
campaign  was  to  load  them  with  such  quantities  that 
the  burden  must  become  too  heavy  to  carry. 

The  London  firm  usually  carried  a  large  spot 
stock.  This  was  poured  into  the  syndicate  in  parcels, 
at  advancing  prices.  Then  all  the  little  markets  on 
the  continent  were  scoured  and  every  ton  available 
brought  to  London  and  disposed  of  in  the  same  way. 

The  agents  of  our  friends,  in  the  producing  mar- 
ket, bought  large  quantities  daily.  It  was  a  six- 
weeks  voyage  to  London.  In  the  interim  there 
would  be  a  heavy  advance  in  price  and  as  soon  as 
the  steamer  arrived  the  syndicate  had  to  buy  these 
lots.  There  was  no  escape.  The  leading  member 
of  the  syndicate  went  to  London  and  a  secret  inter- 
view with  our  correspondent  was  arranged.  His 
widely  known  antagonism  to  the  syndicate  made  him 
the  only  man  who  could  build  a  bridge  for  that  un- 
fortunate combination  to  cross  on.  He  made  his 
own  terms,  they  were  accepted,  and  that  was  the 
beginning  of  the  end  of  the  syndicate's  operations  in 
our  commodity.'  / 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

EXCITING    TIMES 

The  year  1888  from  start  to  finish  was  one  whirl 
of  excitement  in  my  business  life.  The  mental  effort 
of  handling  the  enormous  business — it  must  be 
remembered  ours  was  a  one-man  concern — was  most 
exhausting.  I  became  weary  of  making  money  and 
longed  for  a  dull  period  that  I  might  rest.  But 
there  was  no  dull  period  that  year. 

In  January  we  received  from  our  London  friends 
confidential  information  of  the  arrangement  with  the 
syndicate. 

Its  enormous  holdings  were,  so  far  as  possible,  to 
be  unloaded  on  American  buyers.  This  was  for  us 
to  accomplish.  The  spot  stock  had  to  be  sold  against 
for  future  delivery  and  held  until  maturity  of  the 
sales.  Of  course,  the  sales  were  made  at  a  discount 
from  the  spot  price,  and  as  time  went  on  this 
increased.  When  the  buyers  at  one  level  were  filled 
up,  the  price  was  lowered  until  a  new  level,  that 
would  tempt  further  buyers,  was  reached,  and  so  it 
went  on. 

The  trade  conceived  the  idea  that  our  London 
friends  and  ourselves  were  selling  the  market  short. 
They  never  dreamed  we  were  unloading  for  the 


126  Exciting  Times 

syndicate,  which  was  daily  bidding  £167  for  spot, 
while  we  were  selling  futures  far  below  that  figure. 
They  did  not  know  that  at  four  o'clock  London  time, 
when  the  official  market  closed  on  the  thirtieth  day 
of  April,  the  syndicate  would  cease  buying  and  that 
a  collapse  would  then  be  inevitable.  It  was  not  our 
business  to  enlighten  them,  and  strange  to  relate, 
not  one  man  asked  us  our  opinion  of  the  market. 
They  bought  of  us  day  after  day  and  apparently 
believed  that  when  the  time  for  delivery  came  we 
would  be  unable  to  make  it  and  would  have  to  settle 
with  them  at  their  own  figure. 

A  great  many  of  our  sales  were  made  on  the 
Exchange.  On  this  business  we  could  and  did  call 
margins,  but  there  were  some  weak  people  whom  we 
could  not  avoid  selling  and  in  such  a  market  there 
were  sure  to  be  failures  among  that  class. 

As  previously  explained  we  guaranteed  all  sales, 
and  whenever  a  customer  defaulted  we  at  once  sold 
double  the  quantity  we  had  sold  him,  to  some  strong 
concern.  This  made  us  short  of  the  market,  and 
while  we  made  some  loss  on  the  initial  transaction, 
our  profit  on  the  second  sale  always  more  than 
extinguished  it. 

The  first  man  who  defaulted  brought  to  our  office 
a  deed  for  a  farm  in  Pennsylvania  and  offered  it  to 
us  for  the  four  thousand  dollars  he  owed.  I  handed 
it  back  to  him,  told  him  to  give  it  to  his  wife,  and 
forgave  him  the  debt. 

The  next  man  was  a  bigger  fish.  He  owed  us 
nineteen  thousand  eight  hundred  dollars.     We  made 


Exciting  Times  127 

up  the  account,  and  when  I  handed  him  the  statement 
I  told  him  we  would  not  press  him  and  if  he  was 
ever  able  to  pay  us  twenty-five  cents  on  the  dollar 
we  would  give  him  a  receipt  in  full.  In  later  years 
he  was  worth  a  good  deal  of  money,  though  I  believe 
he  has  since  lost  it,  but  he  never  paid  us  a  dollar. 

After  him  came  a  few  small  men,  who  altogether 
owed  us  perhaps  ten  thousand  dollars.  We  told 
them  all  if  they  ever  felt  able  to  pay  we  would  be 
glad  to  have  the  money,  but  would  never  press  them 
for  it. 

Of  the  whole  lot,  only  one  ever  paid.  His  account 
was  only  a  few  hundred  dollars,  and  I  had  forgotten 
it,  when  one  day  he  called  at  the  office,  said  his  father 
had  died,  leaving  him  a  little  money,  and  he  wanted 
to  pay  us.  He  asked,  "What  rate  of  interest  will 
you  charge  me?"  I  replied,  "Nothing;  and  if  you 
cannot  afford  it,  you  may  leave  us  out  entirely."  He 
insisted  on  paying  the  principal. 

Our  treatment  of  these  people  was  not  good  busi- 
ness in  the  general  sense.  We  could  have  put  them 
all  off  the  floor  of  the  Exchange  and  to  a  small 
degree  it  would  have  been  to  our  advantage  to  do 
so,  but  they  had  our  sympathy  in  their  trouble  and 
we  could  afford  to  lose  the  money. 

The  weeks  flew  by  and  we  were  approaching  the 
end  of  April.  The  discount  on  future  deliveries  was 
now  enormous.  In  London  £167  was  bid  daily  for 
spot  and  we  were  selling  futures  at  £50  discount. 
Under  normal  conditions  futures  should  be  at  a 
slight  premium  over  spot. 


128  Exciting  Times 

In  London  in  1888  the  last  business  day  of  April 
was  on  Friday;  I  think  it  was  the  29th.  Saturday 
the  market  was  closed,  and  as  Monday  was  a  holi- 
day, the  first  business  day  of  May  was  on  Tuesday. 

Just  before  the  gavel  fell  at  the  London  Exchange 
at  four  o'clock  on  Friday,  £167  was  bid  for  spot  and 
the  syndicate  ceased  buying.  On  the  curb,  five  min- 
utes later,  there  were  sellers,  but  no  buyers,  at  £135 ; 
but  this  price  was  not  official.  The  last  official  price 
was  £167.  On  Tuesday  morning  the  first  offer  to 
sell  spot  was  at  £93  and  the  market  had  collapsed. 

The  losses  were  frightful.  On  the  last  day  of 
April  and  the  first  two  or  three  days  of  May  we 
made  all  of  our  April  and  part  of  our  May  deliveries 
on  contracts.  The  differences  between  the  contract 
prices  and  the  market  on  those  deliveries  amounted 
to  three  hundred  thousand  dollars  and  we  had  thou- 
sands of  tons  yet  to  be  delivered  over  the  summer 
and  fall  months.  Fortunately  the  losses  fell  upon 
firms  well  able  to  stand  them  and  there  were  no 
failures. 

We  had  a  very  narrow  escape  from  slipping  up  on 
the  last  of  our  May  deliveries. 

Through  some  misunderstanding  the  London 
steamer  by  which  the  stuff  should  have  reached  us, 
sailed  without  it.  It  was  then  rushed  to  Liverpool 
and  shipped  by  the  Oceanic  of  the  White  Star  Line. 
The  steamer  arrived  at  New  York  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  29th ;  the  30th  was  a  holiday,  and  we  had  to 
make  our  delivery  before  two  o'clock  on  the  31st. 
Meanwhile  the  stuff  must  be  taken  out  of  steamer. 


Exciting  Times  129 

weighed  up  and  carted  to  store,  warehouse  receipts 
and  weighers'  returns  delivered  at  the  office  and 
invoices  made  out,  all  of  which  took  much  time. 
Through  our  influence  with  the  steamer  people  and 
the  expenditure  of  a  little  money,  work  was  carried 
on  day  and  night  and  the  deliveries  went  through  all 
right. 

As  our  profit  on  that  lot  was  thirty  thousand 
dollars  it  was  a  matter  of  some  importance. 

When  the  syndicate  commenced  operations  in  the 
second  commodity,  a  large  New  York  firm,  with 
foreign  branches,  in  order  to  conceal  its  operations 
requested  us  to  act  for  it  as  a  selling  agency  on  the 
Exchange,  all  the  business  being  done  in  our  name. 
The  commissions  on  this  account  ran  into  large 
figures  and  contributed  materially  to  my  income  that 
year. 

An  incident  in  connection  with  this  business, 
showing  how  good  fortune  was  favoring  us  at  that 
time,  I  will  relate : 

One  of  our  sales  for  future  delivery  was  a  lot  of 
two  hundred  thousand  pounds.  After  'Change  it 
was,  with  the  other  transactions,  reported  to  the 
firm.  When,  the  following  morning,  the  contract 
was  sent  to  the  buyer,  he  returned  it,  claiming  it  was 
a  mistake  and  that  he  had  not  made  the  purchase. 
Having  reported  the  sale  the  day  previous  and  the 
market  now  being  a  little  lower,  we  did  not  like  to 
explain  the  matter  to  our  principal  and  let  it  stand 
as  a  purchase  of  our  own. 


130  Exciting  Times 

Before  the  time  for  delivery  matured,  we  resold 
at  a  profit  of  exactly  ten  thousand  dollars. 

By  midsummer  we  had  accumulated  a  large  sum 
of  money.  In  addition  to  this  capital  of  our  own, 
our  resources  through  our  credit  with  banking  con- 
nections made  it  easy  for  us  to  accept  a  proposition 
from  a  certain  firm  to  finance  for  it  on  very  liberal 
terms  an  operation  which  the  firm  had  undertaken. 
This  was  in  a  commodity  of  which  we  were  well 
informed  though  not  doing  business  in  it. 

The  operation  proved  a  failure  and  in  October  the 
firm  suspended. 

We  were  carrying  an  enormous  quantity  of  the 
stuff,  and  when  liquidation  was  completed  had  made 
a  loss  of  sixty-eight  thousand  dollars,  of  which  we 
never  recovered  a  single  dollar. 

At  the  end  of  the  year,  after  charging  off  all  the 
losses,  amounting  to  about  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars,  I  had  made  a  net  profit  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  dollars. 


CHAPTER  XXV 
"come  and  dance  in  the  barn" 

Although  very  fond  of  horses  and  driving  it  was 
not  until  1888  that  we  indulged  ourselves  in  that 
direction. 

When  we  built  "Redstone"  we  planned  where  we 
would  put  the  stable  when  ready  for  it,  but  were  in 
no  hurry  about  building. 

For  fast  horses  I  had  no  liking.  My  taste  was 
for  high-stepping  carriage  horses.  A  pair  that  could 
pull  a  heavy  T-cart  with  four  people  eight  or  nine 
miles  an  hour  and  keep  it  up  without  urging,  were 
fast  enough  in  my  opinion.  I  wanted  high-spirited, 
blooded  animals,  fine  carriages  and  perfect  appoint- 
ments. Until  I  could  afford  such,  I  preferred  to  go 
without. 

In  the  spring  I  bought -a  pair  of  black  Vermont 
Morgans.  They  were  beauties  and  the  whole  family 
fell  in  love  with  them  at  once.  For  the  summer  I 
secured  the  use  of  a  neighbor's  unoccupied  stable 
and  then  commenced  the  erection  of  my  own.  After 
this  was  finished  I  matched  my  first  horses  with 
another  pair  exactly  like  them  and  also  bought  a 
small  pony  for  the  younger  children  and  a  larger  one 
for  the  boys. 


132  "Come  and  Dance  in  the  Barn" 

It  was  not  long  before  I  had  trained  my  horses  to 
drive  either  tandem,  four-in-hand,  or  three  abreast, 
and  with  an  assortment  of  various  styles  of  carriages 
my  equipment  was  complete. 

From  the  Paris-built  drag  carrying  eight  passen- 
gers besides  my  two  men,  clown  to  the  pony  cart, 
everything  was  of  the  best.  All  was  in  good  taste 
and  expense  had  not  been  considered. 

My  combination  carriage-house  and  stable  was 
architecturally  a  very  handsome  building,  and  in  its 
interior  every  detail,  useful  and  ornamental,  had 
received  careful  attention.  The  building  cost  me 
about  seven  thousand  dollars,  but  judging  from  its 
appearance  and  size  my  neighbors  thought  that  my 
investment  was  larger.  As  it  approached  comple- 
tion I  suggested  to  my  wife  the  idea  of  giving  a 
barn-dance,  something  unique  in  the  annals  of  Knoll- 
wood.  We  immediately  went  into  a  committee  of 
two  on  plans  and  scope  and  as  a  result  evolved  an 
evening  of  surprise  and  delight  for  our  friends. 

The  invitations,  engraved  in  usual  note-sheet  form, 
had  on  the  upper  half  of  the  page  a  fine  engraving 
of  the  front  of  the  stable,  and  beneath  in  old  English, 
"Come  and  dance  in  the  barn."  We  received  our 
guests  in  the  hall  and  drawing-room,  fragrant  with 
blooming  plants.  From  a  rear  piazza  a  carpeted 
and  canvas-enclosed  platform  extended  across  the 
lawn  to  the  carriage-house.  The  floor  had  been 
covered  with  canvas  for  the  dancers.  Brilliantly 
illuminated,  in  addition  to  the  permanent  decora- 
tions,  a  life-sized  jockey  in  bronze  bas-relief  and 


"Come  and  Dance  in  the  Barn"  133 

numerous  coaching  pictures,  was  the  work  of  the 
florist.  The  large  orchestra  was  upstairs  surround- 
ing the  open  carriage  trap,  which  was  concealed 
from  below  by  masses  of  smilax.  The  harness-room 
was  made  attractive  with  rugs  and  easy  chairs  for 
the  card  players. 

In  the  stable  each  of  the  six  stalls  had  been  con- 
verted into  a  cozy  nook  where  soft  light  from  shaded 
lamps  fell  on  rugs  and  draperies.  On  each  stall  post 
was  a  massive  floral  horseshoe.  The  orders  of 
dancing,  besides  the  usual  gold-embossed  mono- 
gram, bore  an  engraving  of  a  tandem  cart  with  high- 
stepping  horses  and  driver  snapping  his  long  whip. 
Attached  to  each  was  a  sterling  silver  pencil  repre- 
senting the  foreleg  of  a  horse  in  action,  the  shoe 
being  of  gold.  Supper  was  served  in  the  dining- 
room  from  a  table  decorated  in  keeping  with  the 
event,  the  center-piece  being  a  model  in  sugar  of  the 
tandem  design  on  the  order  of  dancing. 

The  affair  was  a  great  success  in  every  way,  and 
the  following  evening  we  allowed  our  colored  ser- 
vants to  entertain  their  friends  at  the  stable.  With 
a  few  of  our  neighbors  we  witnessed  the  "cake-walk" 
and  found  much  fun  in  it.  The  next  day  the  horses 
were  in  possession. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

AN    IMPORTER    AND    DEALER 

While  during  1888  we  were  nominally  brokers,  a 
considerable  portion  of  our  business  was  actually  in 
the  nature  of  that  of  an  importer  and  dealer.  This 
position  was  really  forced  on  us  by  circumstances 
beyond  our  control.  To  protect  ourselves  from  loss 
in  our  sales  for  London  account  we  had  to  take  from 
time  to  time  an  interest  in  the  market  and  this  made 
us  dealers.  To  complete  our  sales  we  were  com- 
pelled to  import  the  material  and  thus  became 
importers. 

With  the  opening  of  the  year  1889  we  found  our- 
selves possessed  of  fairly  large  capital  and  a  firmly 
established  credit  with  bankers.  These  facts,  com- 
bined with  the  best  facilities  for  doing  the  business, 
decided  us  to  eliminate  the  brokerage  phase  entirely, 
except  in  our  transactions  with  our  speculative 
clients.  From  that  time  on  we  bought  and  sold  for 
our  own  account. 

We  had  a  very  large  trade  with  consumers 
throughout  the  country,  and  we  knew  we  had  but 
to  say  the  word  to  increase  this  by  calling  back  all 
the  small  buyers  with  whom  we  parted  company  in 


An  Importer  and  Dealer  135 

1884.  As  brokers  we  did  not  care  for  that  small 
trade,  but  as  dealers  it  was  an  entirely  different 
proposition. 

Of  course  as  soon  as  the  New  York  dealers  learned 
of  our  new  departure  they  would  give  us  sharp  and 
active  competition  for  the  orders,  but  we  felt  so 
strong  in  our  position  we  did  not  fear  it. 

We  made  no  public  announcement,  but  quietly 
bought  the  necessary  spot  stock  in  the  cheapest  mar- 
ket, and  as  soon  as  we  were  ready,  when  the  orders 
came  to  us,  filled  them  ourselves  instead  of  passing 
them  on  to  the  dealers  as  heretofore. 

Only  a  few  days  passed  before  the  dealers,  missing 
the  orders  they  had  been  accustomed  to  receive 
through  our  hands,  commenced  to  investigate.  When 
questioned  we  told  them  frankly  what  we  were 
doing.  At  first,  argument  was  used  to  dissuade  us 
from  such  a  policy,  but  when  we  were  told  we  had 
no  right  to  the  business  I  replied  that  we  were  not 
dealing  in  a  patented  article  and  I  knew  of  no  law 
to  prevent  us  from  trading  as  dealers  if  we  so 
desired. 

That  ended  the  argument,  and  men  who  for  years 
had  been  in  close  business  intimacy  and  friendship 
with  us,  became  our  enemies. 

I  knew  well  what  that  meant.  Henceforth  I  was 
to  get  my  share  of  the  personal  animosity  that  in 
this  trade  superseded  the  spirit  of  fair  competition. 

Those  men,  held  up  before  the  world  as  models  of 
Christian  piety,  who  never  missed  a  church  service, 
whose  names  appeared  in  the  papers  as  subscribers 


136  An  Importer  and  Dealer 

to  charitable  and  mission  funds;  those  Sunday- 
school  teachers  who  would  not  have  in  their  houses 
on  the  Sabbath  day  a  newspaper,  who  would  not  take 
a  glass  of  wine  at  dinner  because  of  the  example  to 
their  boys,  and  yet  in  their  efforts  to  injure  a  busi- 
ness rival  never  hesitated  to  break  the  Ninth  Com- 
mandment— not  in  words,  oh  no,  too  cautious  for 
that,  nothing  that  one  could  put  his  finger  on;  but 
the  shrug  of  the  shoulder,  the  significant  raising  of 
the  eye-brows,  the  insinuation,  the  little  hint  to  un- 
settle confidence.     Bah !  on  such  Christianity. 

And  now  those  men  were  to  train  their  guns  on 
me. 

I  had  been  twenty  years  in  the  trade  and  knew 
how  others  had  fared.  I  grant,  in  many  cases,  it 
was  tit-for-tat,  the  man  injured  had  done  his  best  to 
injure  others.  With  few  exceptions  the  entire  trade 
were  "birds  of  a  feather." 

We  had  not  long  to  wait  for  the  first  shot  and 
it  fell  very  flat,  the  honors  in  that  engagement  all 
being  with  us. 

A  broker  had  offered  us  a  parcel  for  future 
delivery  at  a  price  he  thought  cheap  and  we  accepted 
it.  Later  he  called  and  said  when  he  gave  up  our 
name  as  the  buyer,  the  seller  declined  to  confirm 
unless  we  would  deposit  with  him,  the  seller,  five 
thousand  dollars  as  security. 

This  concern  knew  we  were  perfectly  responsible, 
but  took  this  method  of  discrediting  us,  expecting 
that  the  broker  would  help  the  matter  on  by  gossip- 
ing through  the  trade  about  it. 


An  Importer  and  Dealer  137 

We  heard  his  story  and  then  said  to  him,  "Go 
back  and  say  to  your  principal  that  we  will  not 
deposit  with  him  one  dollar;  but  if  he  will  deposit 
with  any  trust  company  five  thousand  dollars,  we 
will  deposit  twenty-five  thousand  against  it." 

The  seller  declined  to  deposit  anything  and  the 
sale  was  cancelled.  The  broker  did  gossip  about  it, 
but  as  his  account  of  the  incident  was  correct,  it 
added  to  our  prestige. 

Every  now  and  then  we  would  hear  of  something 
that  one  or  another  of  our  competitors  had  intimated 
to  our  discredit,  but  treating  all  such  rumors  with 
silent  contempt,  we  kept  up  the  even  tenor  of  our 
way  and  closed  the  year  with  a  profit  of  seventy-two 
thousand  dollars. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

SAD   HEARTS   AT   KNOLLWOOD 

The  spring  of  1890  brought  with  it  two  great  sor- 
rows. Following  closely  on  the  death  of  my  beloved 
mother  came  the  death  at  "Sunnyside"  of  Frank 
Slater.  The  latter  was  unexpected  in  its  suddenness 
and  a  terrible  shock  to  all  his  friends.  I  had  become 
so  deeply  attached  to  Frank  that  he  seemed  like  a 
dear  brother  and  my  grief  was  most  profound. 

The  day  after  his  death,  Mr.  Pell,  Mrs.  Slater's 
father,  asked  me  to  represent  the  family  in  the  settle- 
ment of  the  business  affairs.  There  was  no  will  and 
there  were  many  complications. 

Mr.  Pell,  entirely  without  reason,  I  thought,  had 
not  the  fullest  confidence  in  Frank's  partner,  Mr. 
Wood.  He  did  not  believe  he  would  be  any  too 
liberal  to  the  estate  in  the  settlement  of  the  firm's 
affairs.  It  was  in  compliance  with  Mr.  Pell's  ear- 
nest request  that  I  took  charge  and  my  doing  so 
was  entirely  acceptable  to  Mr.  Wood. 

Although  I  regret  the  test  of  my  reader's  patience, 
it  is  essential  to  my  defense  in  certain  matters  to  be 
related  in  later  chapters,  that  the  complications  and 


Sad  Hearts  at  Knollwood  139 

settlement  of  this  estate  should  be  set  forth.  In 
reading  these  pages  I  beg  that  the  footnote  on  page 
102  may  be  remembered. 

The  business  of  Wood  and  Slater  for  several  years 
had  been  the  acquiring  and  holding  of  certain  corpo- 
rate properties,  some  of  which  the  firm  managed. 
With  the  exception  of  one  property,  a  recent  acquisi- 
tion, the  interest  of  each  partner  was  denned  by  the 
individual  holdings  of  stock.  In  the  one  property 
referred  to  the  interest  was  equal  but  the  stock  had 
not  been  issued. 

At  the  time  of  Mr.  Slater's  death  he  had  a  joint 
liability  on  the  firm  account  in  certain  notes  which 
had  been  discounted  at  the  firm's  bank,  and  also  in 
a  loan  made  to  the  firm  by  the  Standard  Oil  Com- 
pany. His  individual  liabilities  were  nearly  seventy- 
five  thousand  dollars.  Only  a  few  of  these  need  be 
specified. 

For  several  years  he  had  profitable  business  rela- 
tions with  me  and  carried  an  account  in  our  office, 
drawing  on  it  at  his  convenience.  At  the  time  of 
his  death  this  account  was  overdrawn  twelve  thou- 
sand dollars.  In  addition  our  name  was  on  his 
paper,  falling  due  after  his  death,  to  the  extent  of 
eighty-seven  hundred  dollars.  Another  liability  was 
a  note  for  forty-seven  hundred  dollars  discounted 
by  a  Pennsylvania  banker,  a  personal  friend.  There 
was  also  an  agreement  to  refund  to  a  friend  under 
certain  conditions  ten  thousand  dollars  which  he  had 
invested  in  a  manufacturing  plant  in  Connecticut 
which  Mr.  Slater  was  backing. 


140  Sad  Hearts  at  Knoll  wood 

The  assets  consisted  almost  entirely  of  the  interest 
in  the  corporate  properties  which  the  firm  had  ac- 
quired and  stock  in  the  Connecticut  concern.  There 
was  also  a  library  which  realized,  when  sold  at  auc- 
tion, about  five  thousand  dollars. 

The  real  estate  was  in  Mrs.  Slater's  name  and 
belonged  to  her. 

In  the  most  valuable  properties  of  the  firm  Wood 
&  Slater  owned  but  two-thirds  interest,  the  remain- 
ing third  being  held  by  the  original  owner,  a  Mr. 
Mallison. 

This  gentleman,  possessed  of  considerable  means, 
was  a  creditor  of  the  estate  to  the  amount  of  about 
sixteen  thousand  dollars.  I  found  that  he  was  dis- 
posed to  buy  the  estate's  interest  in  these  properties 
and  finally  sold  it  to  him  for  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars.  An  additional  consideration  was  the  secur- 
ing through  him  an  investment  of  half  the  amount, 
for  a  period  of  ten  years  at  a  guaranteed  return  of 
ten  per  cent,  per  annum. 

The  Connecticut  investment  looked  to  me  most 
unpromising.  With  extensive  advertising  it  might 
be  made  a  profitable  business  but  there  was  no  money 
for  this ;  on  the  other  hand,  additional  capital  was 
needed  at  once  to  keep  the  concern  alive.  The  note 
held  by  the  Pennsylvania  banker  had  been  issued 
for  the  benefit  of  this  business  and  must  be  paid. 
Unless  new  capital  was  found  to  keep  the  concern 
going,  the  ten  thousand  dollars  guaranteed  by  Mr. 
Slater  must  be  refunded  at  once.     In  other  words, 


Sad  Hearts  at  Knollwood  141 

if  the  business  was  abandoned  the  estate  would  be 
immediately  depleted  to  the  extent  of  fourteen  thou- 
sand seven  hundred  dollars. 

A  meeting-  was  held  at  my  office  at  which  were 
present  all  the  parties  interested  and  also  Mr.  Wood. 

After  a  general  discussion,  in  which  Mr.  Wood 
took  part  and  expressed  great  confidence  in  the 
future  success  of  the  business,  the  gentleman  who 
had  invested  the  ten  thousand  dollars  made  a  propo- 
sition that  if  Mr.  Slater's  friends  would  go  in,  for 
every  dollar  they  subscribed  he  would  subscribe  two. 
If  they  would  not  do  this,  then  he  would  call  upon 
the  estate  to  return  him  the  ten  thousand  dollars. 

Taking  Mr.  Wood  aside,  I  said,  "Charley,  per- 
sonally I  don't  like  the  investment,  but  to  save  the 
estate,  if  you  will  join  me,  I  will  make  it."  His 
reply  was,  "Walter,  I  can  not.  If  I  could  I  would, 
for  I  believe  it  is  a  good  thing,  but  I  can  not  go  into 
any  outside  investment  at  present/' 

My  decision  as  to  my  course  was  made  before  I 
had  spoken  to  him,  but  I  thought  I  would  offer  him 
a  chance  to  share  that  investment  with  me,  after  tell- 
ing him  my  poor  opinion  of  it. 

My  heart  was  heavy  with  sorrow  for  the  loss  of 
my  friend  and  for  his  family  I  felt  the  deepest  sym- 
pathy. I  believed  then,  as  I  believe  to-day,  that 
what  I  did  was  no  more  than  he  would  have  done 
for  my  loved  ones  under  similar  circumstances. 

In  that  Connecticut  concern  I  invested  in  all  about 
eight  thousand  dollars,  which  proved,  as  I  thought 
very  probably  it  would,  practically  a  total  loss.     I 


142  Sad  Hearts  at  Knollwood 

waived  my  claim  for  twelve  thousand  dollars  on  that 
overdrawn  account  and  I  personally  paid  those  notes 
for  eighty-seven  hundred  dollars,  one  in  June  and 
the  other  in  August  following  the  death  of  my 
friend. 

The  only  remaining  asset  to  be  disposed  of  was 
the  recently  acquired  property  for  which  stock  had 
not  been  issued. 

Mr.  Wood  was  personally  managing  this,  and  he 
represented  to  me  that  it  was  in  bad  shape  and  that 
if  anything  was  made  out  of  it,  it  would  be  by  his 
efforts  and  he  did  not  want  an  estate  for  a  partner. 

He  proposed  to  offset  the  estate's  interest  against 
the  liability  on  the  firm  note  held  by  the  bank.  I  am 
not  sure  what  that  amounted  to  and  have  not  the 
data  at  hand  to  ascertain,  but  think  it  was  under  five 
thousand  dollars. 

This  property  is  now  of  great  value  and  has, 
I  believe,  made  Mr.  Wood,  who  still  owns  it,  a 
rich  man. 

At  the  time  I  thought  his  proposition  a  fair  one, 
though  in  later  years,  Mr.  Mallison,  a  good  judge 
of  the  value  of  such  properties,  told  me  that  he 
"never  thought  Wood  treated  Mrs.  Slater  just  right 
in  that  matter." 

When  I  made  the  sale  to  Mallison  it  left  Wood  a 
minority  stockholder,  which  position  he  did  not 
fancy.  He  tried  to  sell  out  to  Mallison.  These  men 
had  a  mutual  dislike  for  each  other  and  Wood  after 
repeated  efforts  found  they  could  not  agree  on  terms. 


Sad  Hearts  at  Knollwood  143 

Then  he  asked  me  to  make  the  sale  for  him.  He 
was  prepared  to  take  and  expected  to  get  less  than 
the  estate  had  received.  Technically  it  was  worth 
less,  for  the  buyer  already  had  control.  I  succeeded 
in  making  the  sale  at  the  same  price,  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars. 

On  my  way  home  that  day  I  stopped  at  Wood's 
house  to  tell  him  what  I  had  done.  He  was  not 
at  home  and  I  saw  his  wife.  I  told  her  of  the  sale 
and  asked  her  to  tell  her  husband.  She  exclaimed, 
"Oh,  Walter!  What  a  friend  you've  been."  That 
was  in  1890.    This  is  1904. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


NEW    FACES 


A  snap  of  the  whip,  horses  prancing,  and  with 
the  notes  of  the  horn  waking  the  echoes  in  the  hills, 
we  drove  out  from  "Redstone"  just  after  luncheon 
and  commenced  the  first  stage  of  our  sixty-mile  drive 
to  Normandie-by-the-Sea,  where  we  were  to  spend 
the  rest  of  the  summer. 

This  was  on  a  Friday,  about  the  middle  of  July, 
1890.  On  the  drag  my  wife  sat  beside  me  on  the 
box-seat ;  behind  us  were  the  six  children  and  maid, 
and  in  the  rumble,  my  two  men.  It  was  a  very 
jolly  party  as  we  went  bowling  along  over  the  finest 
roads  in  the  State,  and  we  minded  not  the  gentle 
rain  falling  steadily.  All  were  dry  in  mackintoshes 
and  under  the  leather  aprons,  and  passing  through 
one  village  after  another  we  were  of  the  opinion 
that  there  is  nothing  quite  so  inspiring  as  driving 
through  the  country  behind  four  spirited  horses  in 
any  kind  of  weather.  Just  at  half-past  five  we 
crossed  the  bridge  over  the  Raritan  and  drove  into 
New  Brunswick,  where  we  were  to  stop  over  night. 

After  a  good  night's  rest  and  an  eight  o'clock 
breakfast  we  were  off  again. 


New  Faces  145 

The  rain  had  ceased  and  the  day  was  bright  and 
beautiful,  with  no  dust  to  mar  the  pleasure  of  our 
drive.  On  through  Old  Bridge  and  Mattawan  to 
Keyport,  where  we  stopped  for  luncheon.  Then 
away  on  the  last  stage  of  the  delightful  journey. 
Stopping  at  one  of  the  toll-gates  to  water  the  horses 
the  woman  in  charge  looked  up  at  the  merry  lot  of 
children,  and  then  turning  to  my  wife  asked,  "Are 
those  children  all  yours?"  With  a  laugh  I  said 
"guilty,"  and  away  we  went.  The  hands  of  the 
clock  on  the  dashboard  were  at  six  as  we  drove  up 
to  the  hotel,  sharp  on  time. 

We  soon  became  acquainted  with  many  of  the 
guests  at  the  hotel,  who  were  a  pleasant  lot  of 
people,  and  were  particularly  attracted  to  a  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Edward  Banford  of  New  York. 

Ned  Banford,  a  man  of  about  thirty  years  of  age, 
good  looking,  genial  and  clever,  was  a  manufactur- 
ing jeweler  and  is  still  in  that  business.  His  wife, 
a  very  charming  woman,  is  now  prominent  in  golfing 
circles.  Before  the  season  was  over,  we  numbered 
the  Banfords  amongst  our  intimate  friends.  Ned 
and  I  were  companions  on  our  daily  trips  to  and 
from  the  city,  and  before  I  had  known  him  more 
than  a  few  weeks  he  had  voluntarily  told  me  a  good 
deal  about  his  business  affairs. 

He  said  his  own  capital  was  very  small  and  a 
wealthy  friend,  a  Mr.  Viedler,  was  backing  him, 
and  at  that  time  had  ten  thousand  dollars  in  his  busi- 
ness. He  enlarged  on  the  liberality  of  this  friend, 
saying,  amongst  other  things,  that  when  he  went 


146  New  Faces 

to  him  for  money  he  never  asked  anything-  further 
than,  "How  much  do  you  want,  Ned?"  and  then 
writing  a  cheque  would  hand  it  to  him. 

He  also  told  me  that  his  business  was  very  profit- 
able and  the  only  disadvantage  he  labored  under 
was  Mr.  Viedler's  frequent  absence. 

This  sort  of  talk  went  on  daily  until  one  morn- 
ing he  told  me  that  the  day  previous  he  had  an  offer 
of  a  lot  of  precious  stones  for  five  thousand  dollars 
which  he  could  have  turned  over  inside  of  thirty 
days  with  a  profit  of  two  thousand  dollars,  but  had 
to  pass  it  because  Mr.  Viedler  was  out  of  town. 

The  same  spirit  which  always  moved  me  to  do 
what  I  could  to  help  everybody  I  knew  led  me  to 
say  to  him,  "Ned,  I  do  not  want  to  put  any  money 
in  a  sinking  fund  for  a  long  pull,  as  I  may  have 
use  for  all  my  capital  in  my  own  business;  but  any 
time  you  want  five  thousand  dollars  for  thirty  days, 
I  will  be  glad  to  let  you  have  it." 

He  wanted  it  very  soon.  In  a  few  days  I  loaned 
him  five  thousand  dollars,  and  after  that,  until  Sep- 
tember, 1893,  there  was  no  time  he  did  not  owe  me 
from  five  thousand  to  fifteen  thousand  dollars. 

After  we  returned  to  "Redstone"  we  had  the  Ban- 
fords  out  for  a  visit,  and  a  little  later  visited  them 
in  New  York.  They  gave  a  dinner  in  our  honor, 
and  those  amongst  the  guests  who  become  prominent 
in  this  narrative  hereafter  were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Albert 
Caine,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  Curtice,  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  George  Todd. 


New  Faces  147 

This  dinner  was  the  commencement  of  a  long  and 
intimate  friendship  with  all  of  those  I  have  named. 
Very  many  were  the  good  times  we  had  together, 
visits  back  and  forth,  dinners,  driving  trips,  theatre 
parties,  trips  to  Atlantic  City,  Lakewood  and  other 
resorts,  to  Princeton  and  New  Haven  for  the  college 
games — nothing  that  promised  a  good  time  was 
allowed  to  get  by  us. 

The  birthdays  and  wedding  anniversaries  of  all 
were  duly  celebrated,  and  gifts  interchanged  at 
Christmas  between  both  parents  and  children.  It 
was  indeed  a  happy,  joyous  circle  of  friends. 

My  business  affairs  continued  to  prosper,  and  for 
my  second  year,  as  an  importer  and  dealer,  my  books 
showed  a  profit  of  sixty-eight  thousand  dollars. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

A  SHORT  YEAR  AND  A  MERRY  ONE 

As  memory  carries  me  back  to  1891,  it  seems  as 
if  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  crowd  into  a 
period  of  twelve  months  more  social  pleasures  and 
jolly  good  times  than  we  had  in  that  year. 

In  the  social  life  at  Knollwood  we  had  ceased  to 
be  active.  We  kept  up  and  enjoyed  our  intimate 
friendship,  now  of  more  than  ten  years'  duration, 
with  our  immediate  neighbors ;  but  the  personnel  of 
the  Park  had  changed  in  recent  years  and  with  many 
of  the  new  residents  we  were  not  congenial,  though 
on  pleasant  terms  with  all. 

There  was  still  a  good  deal  of  dining,  card  parties 
and  entertainments  at  the  Casino,  in  which  we  par- 
ticipated, but  it  was  with  our  New  York  friends 
that  most  of  our  social  life  was  passed.  The  circle 
there  had  been  enlarged  by  the  addition  of  many 
pleasant  people,  although  the  close  intimacy  still 
rested  where  it  had  started,  with,  however,  the  addi- 
tion of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  Viedler. 

Mr.  Viedler,  a  multi-millionaire  at  that  time,  has 
since  largely  increased  his  fortune  and  is  now  the 
controlling  interest  in  a  prominent  trust  of  com- 


A  Short  Year  and  a  Merry  One  149 

paratively  recent  formation.  They  had  been  Brook- 
lynites  but  bought  a  fine  house  on  Fifth  Avenue. 
We  first  met  them  on  the  occasion  of  a  dinner  given 
in  their  honor  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Curtice,  to  welcome 
them  to  New  York.  Mr.  Curtice  is  a  nephew  of 
Mrs.  Viedler. 

The  Caines,  although  intimate,  were  not  of  the 
inner  circle.  This  comprised  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Curtice, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Todd,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Banford,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Viedler,  and  ourselves.  Curtice  was  our 
poet  laureate,  and  in  a  song  he  composed  and  sang 
at  a  dinner  were  included  these  lines : 

"Thus  from  the  crowd  that  gathered  then 
Has  sprung  to  fame  the  immortal  ten, 
And  Stowe  has  been  so  generous  since 
That  all  the  crowd  have  dubbed  him  Prince." 

After  that  event  all  our  friends  referred  to  the 
little  circle  as  the  'Immortal  Ten" ;  my  wife  was 
called  Lady  Stowe,  and  I,  by  right  of  song,  Prince. 

It  is  very  difficult  to  say  what  we  did  not  do 
that  year  in  the  way  of  pleasure-seeking,  but  it  is 
an  easy  matter  to  name  the  chief  event. 

As  guests  of  Mr.  Viedler  a  party  of  eighteen  went 
camping  in  the  Maine  woods.  In  every  detail  the 
trip  was  a  perfect  success.  Private  car  to  Moose- 
head  Lake,  a  banquet  fit  for  Lucullus  prepared  by 
his  own  chef,  en  route,  exquisite  Tiffany  menus,  and 
costly  souvenirs.  Headquarters  at  Mt.  Kineo  for 
a  day  or  two,  then  down  the  West  Branch  of  the 
Penobscot  in  canoes,  and  over  the  carries  until  the 


150  A  Short  Year  and  a  Merry  One 

comfortable  camp  at  Cauquomgomoc  Lake  was 
reached.  Deer,  moose,  partridge,  and  trout  were 
in  abundance.  Every  minute  of  that  delightful  out- 
ing was  filled  with  pleasure. 

Early  in  the  fall  we  decided  to  try  a  winter  in 
New  York.  The  "San  Remo,"  at  Seventy-fourth 
Street  and  Central  Park,  West,  had  just  been  com- 
pleted, and  I  rented  three  connecting  apartments, 
which  gave  us  parlor,  library,  dining-room,  five  bed- 
rooms, and  three  baths,  all  outside  rooms.  I  also 
rented  in  Sixty-seventh  Street  a  stable,  and  on  the 
first  of  October  we  took  possession. 

We  were  more  than  pleased  with  the  life  in  town, 
and  I  commenced  negotiations  with  Dore  Lyon  for 
the  purchase  of  a  handsome  house  he  owned  at  West 
End  Avenue  and  Seventy-fifth  Street.  Just  as  the 
trade  was  about  to  be  closed  my  eldest  daughter 
was  attacked  with  typhoid.  She  became  very  ill,  and 
this  so  alarmed  us  we  concluded  to  return  to  "Red- 
stone" in  the  spring  and  remain  there. 

When  the  holidays  drew  near  the  invalid  was 
convalescent,  and  we  opened  "Redstone"  for  a  house 
party.  When  we  returned  to  New  York,  it  was 
with  a  feeling  of  regret. 

Business  had  been  good  throughout  the  year.  My 
profits  were  nearly  eighty  thousand  dollars. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

A   VOUCHER 

My  life,  both  in  business  and  socially,  in  1892 
was  not  essentially  different  from  that  of  1891. 
Business  continued  satisfactory,  my  profits  running 
up  to  within  a  few  thousand  dollars  of  the  previous 
year. 

My  senior  clerk,  George  Norman,  had  been  in  my 
employ  for  eleven  years,  coming  to  me  as  an  office- 
boy.  His  salary  was  now  twelve  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars.  I  told  him  that  as  a  clerk  he  would  never 
be  worth  more  to  us,  and  advised  him  to  start  as  a 
broker,  which  he  did. 

We  gave  him  a  strong  endorsement  in  a  circular 
to  the  trade,  and  how  well  we  supported  him  is 
shown  by  the  fact  that  we  paid  him  sixty-six  hundred 
dollars  in  commissions  the  first  year  of  his  business. 

We  returned  to  "Redstone"  early  in  May.  Our 
home,  after  our  New  York  experience,  was  more 
attractive  than  ever,  and  we  did  not  believe  we 
would  again  care  to  leave  it. 

My  readers  will  remember  my  reference  in  a 
former  chapter  to  a  trade  journal  which  I  turned 
over  to  George  Lawton.  On  July  9,  in  celebration 
of  the  commencement  of  its  tenth  year,  its  publisher 


152  A  Voucher 

issued  a  special  number,  a  copy  of  which  is  before 
me.  An  article  it  contains  is  so  completely  a  con- 
firmation of  much  that  I  have  written,  I  insert  it 
here  verbatim,  except  for  change  of  names  to  comply 
with  my  narrative  and  the  omission  of  irrelevant 
matter.  The  article  was  written  by  the  Secretary  of 
the  Exchange. 

WALTER  E.  STOWE. 

Since  the  father  is  properly  considered  before  the  child,  it  has 
seemed  to  us  most  appropriate  in  celebrating  for  the  first  time 
the  birthday  of  the  [name  of  paper],  that  we  should  not  only 
make  some  mention  of  its  founder,  but  even  that  we  should 
accord  him  the  first  place  in  our  brief  memorial ;  and  we  have 
accordingly,  rather  against  his  own  wishes,  prepared  the  fine 
portrait  of  him  which  serves  as  a  frontispiece  to  this  issue.  It 
is  hardly  in  the  character  of  a  journalist  that  our  readers  will 
generally  think  of  Mr.  Stowe,  although  most  of  them  doubtless 
know  that  he  originated  and  for  several  years  managed  what 
we  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  is  facile  princeps  among  *  *  * 
trade  papers ;  but  rather  in  his  more  permanent  role  of  decid- 
edly the  most  successful  among  the  younger  generation  of 
*  *  *  dealers — as  a  man  who  has  carved  out  for  himself  a 
position  as  commanding  in  respect  of  the  *  *  *  market, 
especially,  as  is  occupied  abroad  by  his  London  correspondent, 
the  famous  A***S*** 

A  trifle  over  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago — in  February,  1866 — 
Mr.  Stowe  entered  the  orifice  of  Thomas  Derham  as  a  clerk 
fresh  from  school,  in  which  capacity  he  served  for  just  four 
years,  and  then  succeeded  to  the  business  of  this  firm  as  a 
broker  on  his  own  account.  A  broker  in  those  days  was  an 
altogether  different  sort  of  cogwheel  in  the  machinery  of  com- 
merce from  the  broker  of  to-day ;  success  depending  primarily 
on  geniality  of  manner,  industry  and  intelligence  in  the  execu- 
tion of  commissions  intrusted  to  him  by  the  jobbing  houses; 
all  of  which  qualifications,  Mr.  Stowe  possessed  in  an  eminent 
degree,  and  devoting  himself  particularly  to  dealing  in  *  *  * 
advanced  rapidly  to  a  position  in  which  the  major  part  of  such 
transactions  as  were  not  made  directly  by  importers  to  con- 


A  Voucher  153 

sumers,  passed  through  his  hands.  But  his  business  ability  was 
of  a  broader  type  than  was  needed  for  such  services  only,  and 
in  the  process  of  evolution,  through  which  the  old-fashioned 
broker  was  practically  eliminated,  his  place  being  taken  by  a 
new  type  of  dealer,  who  although  not  always  or  even  usually 
trading  for  his  own  account,  yet  makes  most  of  his  transactions 
in  his  own  name,  and  is  chiefly  differentiated  from  the  jobber 
only  from  the  fact  that  he  buys  and  sells  in  round  parcels  and 
does  not  break  them  up  to  shop  out  into  smaller  lots.  As  this 
change  took  place,  Mr.  Stowe  developed  into  a  dealer  of  a 
newer  and  more  progressive  type  than  the  *  *  *  trade  had 
hitherto  known.  To-day  he  stands  rather  as  an  importer,  the 
entries  to  his  firm's  credit  having  steadily  climbed  the  list  of 
percentages  until  they  are  now  far  ahead  of  those  belonging  to 
any  other  house ;  and  with  his  intimate  relations  with  A.  *  *  * 
S.  *  *  *  &  Co.,  of  London,  it  would  be  making  no  invidious 
comparison  to  say  that  he  is  the  recognized  leader  of  the  *  *  * 
trade  of  America. 

For  all  his  remarkably  prosperous  career,  Mr.  Stowe  has  been 
in  no  way  spoiled  by  success,  and  is  to-day  the  same  quiet,  un- 
assuming gentleman  as  when  these  characteristics  attracted  the 
goodwill  of  older  men  in  the  trade  and  secured  to  him  the 
beginning  of  a  business  which  has  since  grown  so  largely.  He 
was  a  late  comer  to  the  membership  of  the  Exchange,  which  he 
joined  only  in  1886;  but  has  served  on  its  board  of  managers 
for  four  years  past,  and  since  the  first  of  April  has  held  the 
position  of  vice-president.  Outside  of  his  business,  his  life  is 
a  thoroughly  domestic  one,  for  which  he  has  abundant  excuse 
in  his  beautiful  home,  "Redstone,"  at  Knollwood,  N.  J.,  where 
he  is  one  of  the  most  popular  residents  of  that  charming 
suburb  and  where  he  has  a  particular  claim  to  distinction  in  the 
fine  stable  which  he  maintains,  his  chief  hobby  being  horse 
flesh,  though  not  on  the  sporting  side,  with  which  we  are  most 
likely  to  associate  such  a  passion.  In  short,  the  [name  of 
paper]  has  every  reason  to  be  proud  of  its  parentage,  and  like 
all  good  children  delights  in  doing  filial  honor  and  wishing  its 
founder  all  possible  prosperity  in  the  future  as  in  the  past. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

TWO    SIDES    TO    THE    QUESTION 

It  was  the  afternoon  of  a  day  in  the  first  week  of 
January,  1893.  I  sat  m  an  easv  chair  in  front  of 
the  open  fire  in  my  private  office  deep  in  thought. 
In  my  hand  was  the  balance-sheet  for  1892,  showing 
a  profit  of  over  seventy  thousand  dollars.  I  was 
considering  both  sides  of  a  momentous  question.  It 
was  whether  or  not  to  retire  from  business. 

I  had  for  years  looked  forward  with  delightful 
anticipation  to  the  time  when  I  could  do  this.  I 
wanted  to  travel  extensively.  In  my  library  were 
many  books  of  travel,  all  of  which  had  been  read 
with  great  interest.  I  had  an  eager  longing  to  see 
for  myself  all  parts  of  the  civilized  world;  not  in 
haste,  but  at  my  own  leisure.  I  wanted  to  devote 
years  to  a  journey  that  should  cover  the  globe. 

My  affairs  were  in  excellent  shape.  Within  a 
period  of  sixty  days  I  could  liquidate  my  business 
and  retire  with  about  three  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars. I  had  my  home,  complete  in  its  appointments ; 
my  library;  my  stable,  with  all  that  it  could  contri- 
bute to  our  pleasure  and  comfort;  my  health,  and  I 
was  but  forty-two  years  of  age.  That  was  one  side, 
now  for  the  other.  The  largest  income  I  could  expect 


Two  Sides  to  the  Question  155 

with  my  capital  securely  invested  would  be  fifteen 
thousand  dollars.  My  balance-sheet  showed  that  in 
1892  I  had  drawn  forty- four  thousand.  I  consid- 
ered where  my  expenditures  could  be  cut  down. 
There  was  the  long  list  of  pensioners,  relatives,  and 
friends  who  for  years  had  been  receiving  regularly 
from  me  a  monthly  cheque  on  which  they  depended 
for  their  comfort.  Could  that  be  cut  off?  Surely 
not. 

There  was  a  still  longer  list  of  people,  many  of 
whom  I  knew  but  slightly,  who  from  time  to  time 
called  on  me  for  help,  always  as  loans  but  rarely 
returned.  I  kept  no  record  of  such  things  and  never 
requested  repayment.  Could  that  item  be  cut  out? 
No,  for  when  a  man  appealed  to  me  for  assistance, 
I  knew  not  how  to  refuse  him.  He  always  received 
it. 

There  were  all  the  charities,  St.  John's  Guild, 
Fresh-Air  Funds,  hospitals,  home  for  crippled  chil- 
dren, and  the  personal  charities  of  my  wife  amongst 
the  poor — could  these  be  dropped  ?    Again,  no. 

Then  I  looked  at  home.  The  education  of  our 
children — my  elder  son  was  at  Harvard  with  a 
liberal  allowance ;  my  eldest  daughter  at  Miss  Dana's 
expensive  school  at  Morristown;  the  rest  of  the 
children  taught  at  home  by  a  visiting  governess; 
the  girls  taking  music  lessons — nothing  could  be 
done  here.  The  education  item  was  bound  to  in- 
crease materially  as  the  children  grew  older. 

Then  I  thought  of  the  monthly  bills  from  Altman, 
Arnold,  Constable  &  Co.,  Lord  &  Taylor,  and  others. 


156  Two  Sides  to  the  Question 

How  about  those?  Oh,  no;  I  loved  to  see  my  wife 
in  her  beautiful  gowns  and  as  the  girls  developed 
into  young  ladies  those  bills  would  grow. 

There  seemed  nothing  left  but  the  entertainment 
of  our  friends.  A  large  expense,  but  essential  to 
our  pleasure  and  position  in  society. 

I  carried  a  very  large  life  insurance,  but  did  not 
for  a  moment  think  of  reducing  that. 

Then  my  thoughts  carried  me  farther.  Suppose 
I  could  get  my  expenses  down  to  my  income,  how 
about  the  people  wre  wrere  helping  in  another  way, 
whose  income  would  be  seriously  affected  by  my 
retiring? 

There  was  one  of  our  friends  at  Knollwood.  He 
was  employed  on  a  moderate  salary,  and  when  his 
wife  inherited  nine  hundred  dollars  he  brought  it 
to  me  and  asked  me  to  make  some  money  for  him. 
Now,  as  a  result,  he  was  living  in  a  house  he  had 
bought  for  eleven  thousand  dollars  and  to  cancel 
the  mortgage  of  a  few  thousand  he  relied  upon  me. 
There  were  those  three  old  gentlemen  in  Connecti- 
cut whose  income  from  their  investment  with  us  was 
allowing  them  to  pass  in  comfort  their  declining 
years.  Could  I  cut  this  off?  No;  and  there  were 
many  others. 

It  was  clear  to  my  mind  that  my  labor  was  not 
yet  at  an  end.  I  must  still  keep  at  the  helm,  but  I 
made  a  resolution  that  on  my  fiftieth  birthday  I 
would  retire. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE    PANIC   OF    NINETY-THREE 

In  the  year  1893  there  was  one  great  controlling 
feature  in  our  market  that  was  to  culminate  on  July 
first. 

For  years  the  commodity  in  which  we  dealt  had 
been  duty  free.  The  McKinley  Tariff  Bill  imposed 
a  duty  of  four  cents  per  pound,  to  go  into  effect  on 
July  1st,  1893,  for  a  period  of  two  years.  It  was 
the  one  senseless  clause  in  an  otherwise  excellent  bill 
and  had  been  inserted  as  the  only  means  of  securing 
the  necessary  votes  in  the  Senate.  The  sole  object 
of  the  clause  was  to  influence  the  speculative  value 
of  shares  in  a  certain  corporation  which  is  now  in 
the  hands  of  a  receiver. 

When  this  corporation  was  first  organized  I  sub- 
scribed for  some  stock  and  was  in  its  first  board  of 
directors  and  its  vice-president.  If  there  was  to  be 
a  new  source  of  supply  of  the  commodity  I  dealt  in 
so  largely,  it  was  important  I  should  know  of  it. 
As  soon  as  I  became  satisfied  that  it  was  nothing 
but  a  scheme  to  make  money  by  the  sale  of  stock, 
I  resigned  and  disposed  of  my  holdings  to  one  of 
the  promoters  at  a  profit  of  eight  dollars  per  share. 


158  The  Panic  of  Ninety-Three 

Efforts  to  have  the  clause  repealed  had  been  unsuc- 
cessful, and  as  the  duty  was  certain  to  be  imposed, 
we  thought  it  wise  to  import  largely  prior  to  July 
first.  Others  did  the  same,  and  when  that  date 
arrived  the  stock  in  New  York  was  very  large.  We 
held  on  our  own  account  about  one-third  of  the  entire 
stock  and  in  addition  a  very  large  quantity  which 
we  had  sold  to  our  customers  for  delivery  in  July. 

Of  course,  our  purchases  had  been  made  of  our 
London  friends,  and  during  this  period  our  remit- 
tances were  unusually  large,  running  into  several 
millions.  An  incident  of  our  correspondence  at  that 
time  was  a  postscript  in  one  of  their  letters  calling 
'our  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  letter  from  us,  to 
which  they  were  then  replying,  had  been  underpaid 
in  postage  and  cost  them  six  pence.  They  requested 
us  to  see  to  it  in  future  that  our  letters  were  properly 
stamped.  Think  of  that,  from  a  concern  with  whom 
we  were  doing  a  business  of  millions ! 

Early  in  July  came  the  panic.  It  seemed  as  if 
over  night  all  the  money  in  the  country  had  dis- 
appeared. In  Wall  Street  fabulous  rates  were  bid 
for  money.  Banks  and  bankers  said  they  had  none. 
Where  was  it  ? 

When  the  stock  market  collapsed  and  values  had 
depreciated  hundreds  of  millions,  money  was  found 
by  the  large  insurance  companies  and  the  powerful 
factors  of  Wall  Street  to  pick  up  the  bargains  in 
shares,  but  it  was  some  time  before  merchants  could 
get  it.  Meanwhile,  this  class  all  over  the  country, 
after  a  long  period  of  good  times,  were  caught  by 


The  Panic  of  Ninety-Three  159 

the  panic  with  their  lines  greatly  extended.  Great 
houses  rating  "a  million  and  over"  had  no  actual 
cash.  Property? — Lots  of  it.  Solvent? — Abso- 
lutely so,  but  they  could  not  pay  their  obligations, 
nor  take  deliveries  on  contracts  that  required  pay- 
ments against  delivery. 

Our  sales  for  July  delivery  amounted  to  nearly 
a  million  of  dollars ;  less  than  fifty  thousand  was 
taken  according  to  contract.  The  rest  we  had  to 
carry  and  our  bankers  had  to  carry  us.  We  shall 
never  cease  to  be  grateful  for  the  generous  help 
they  gave  us  in  that  critical  period. 

Under  these  financial  conditions  it  was  only  natu- 
ral that  all  merchandise  markets  should  be  greatly 
depressed. 

Our  market  was  weak  at  eighteen  cents,  although 
not  a  pound  could  now  be  imported  below  twenty- 
two  cents.  The  large  stock  seemed  to  hang  as  a  wet 
blanket,  but  as  a  fact  most  of  it  was  concentrated 
in  three  strong  hands.  We  were  the  largest  holders. 
I  called  on  the  other  two  and  told  them  it  was  absurd 
to  sell  at  the  ruling  price,  and  if  they  would  assure 
me  we  would  not  have  to  take  their  stock — in  other 
words,  if  they  would  hold  it  off  the  market — we 
would  buy  the  floating  lots  and  advance  the  price 
close  to  the  importing  point.  I  further  offered  to 
give  them  an  equal  share  of  the  purchases  if  they 
so  desired.  They  asked  how  much  I  thought  we 
would  have  to  buy?  To  which  I  replied,  "Not  over 
five  hundred  tons." 


160  The  Panic  of  Ninety-Three 

The  agreement  was  made  on  the  basis  of  an  equal 
division  of  the  purchases.  Slowly  but  steadily  we 
raised  the  price,  and  when  the  end  we  sought  was 
accomplished  we  had  bought  four  hundred  and 
ninety  tons.  The  operation  and  consequent  advance 
in  the  market  made  a  difference  in  the  value  of  our 
holdings  of  seventy  thousand  dollars. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 


All  through  the  summer  of  1893  we  had  been  dis- 
cussing the  advisability  of  leaving  "Redstone"'  and 
taking  up  a  permanent  residence  in  New  York. 

Our  children  were  now  at  a  period  when  good 
schools  were  imperative  for  their  proper  education, 
and  such  did  not  exist  at  Knoll  wood.  Our  social  life 
was  almost  entirely  with  our  New  York  friends,  and 
though  two  families  of  the  "Immortal  Ten"  had 
become  residents  of  Knollwood  they  were  to  leave  at 
the  end  of  the  term  for  which  they  had  rented.  The 
Banfords  occupied  "Sunnyside,"  while  George  Law- 
ton,  who  had  removed  to  Orange,  rented  his  house 
to  the  Todds. 

While  we  were  fond  of  all  the  New  York  friends 
and  especially  so  of  Will  Curtice  and  his  wife,  for 
George  and  Charlotte  Todd  we  had  a  tender  spot  in 
our  hearts  that  none  of  the  others  quite  reached. 
George,  in  a  way,  reminded  me  of  my  former  friend, 
Frank  Slater ;  not  that  he  resembled  him  in  feature, 
but  in  his  possession  of  a  charm  of  manner  that  won 
everybody  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  Versatile, 
witty,  and  brilliant  in  his  entertaining  power,  he  was 


162  Farewell  to  "Redstone" 

easily  the  most  popular  man  in  our  circle.  Entering 
the  employment  of  New  York's  greatest  life  insur- 
ance company  as  an  office  boy,  he  is  to-day  one  of 
its  vice-presidents,  and  this  proud  position  is  the 
well-deserved  reward  of  wonderful  ability.  His 
wife  is  one  of  those  sweet,  pretty,  clever  women  that 
everybody  loves. 

Ned  Banford  had  met  with  disaster.  He  was  one 
of  many  who  were  unable  to  weather  the  panic.  At 
the  time  of  his  failure  he  was  indebted  to  me  five 
thousand  dollars.  A  day  or  two  before  the  event  he 
brought  me  a  package  of  unset  pearls  which  he 
valued  at  eight  thousand  dollars  and  requested  me  to 
hold  them  as  security. 

Mr.  Viedler,  who  also  was  a  creditor,  was  abroad. 
As  soon  as  he  learned  of  the  failure  he  returned  to 
New  York  and  advanced  a  considerable  sum  of 
money  to  enable  Ned  to  make  a  settlement  with  his 
merchandise  creditors.  This  took  considerable  time, 
and  meanwhile  I  required  in  my  own  business  the 
use  of  all  my  resources.  I  told  Ned  if  he  could  not 
arrange  to  repay  me  I  would  be  forced  to  sell  the 
pearls,  and  suggested  taking  them  to  Tiffany,  where 
I  was  well  known,  and  asking  them  to  make  an  offer. 
To  this  he  strongly  objected,  and  much  to  my 
surprise,  in  view  of  all  that  I  had  done  for  him, 
exhibited  a  good  deal  of  ill-feeling  toward  me  for 
taking  such  a  position.  I  remained  firm,  however, 
and  fixed  a  date  beyond  which  I  would  not  wait. 


Farewell  to  "Redstone"  163 

The  day  before  the  specified  time  Ned  brought  to 
my  office  Mr.  Viedler's  cheque  to  my  order  for  five 
thousand  dollars. 

Throwing  the  cheque  on  my  desk  he  said,  with  a 
smile,  "Here's  your  money,  old  man;  now  I  want 
you  to  do<  something  for  me.  Just  give  me  your 
note  for  five  thousand  dollars  payable  to  Viedler." 
I  said,  "Why  should  I  do  that,  Ned?  I  am  not 
borrowing  this  money  of  Viedler.  This  is  not  to 
benefit  me — it  is  to  help  you  and  save  those  pearls." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  he  replied,  "but  Viedler  is  a  queer 
sort  of  chap.  He  has  been  putting  up  a  lot  of  money 
for  me.  He  wants  this  done  this  way  and  I  want 
to  humor  him.  It  will  help  me  and  won't  hurt  you. 
Payment  will  never  be  demanded  of  you."  I  asked 
him  if  Mr.  Viedler  was  fully  informed  on  the  matter 
and  knew  what  my  position  was.  He  replied,  "Yes, 
I  have  told  him  all  about  it."  I  then  gave  him  the 
note.  The  sequel  to  this  incident  will  come  in  a 
later  chapter. 

As  a  final  result  of  our  summer's  deliberation  we 
leased  a  house  at  Eighty-sixth  Street  and  West  End 
Avenue  and  by  the  first  of  October  had  become 
settled  in  our  new  home ;  the  horses  we  took  with  us 
but  the  ponies  were  sold.  The  children  had  out- 
grown them.  "Redstone"  we  closed  for  the  winter. 
In  the  spring  I  offered  it  for  rent  and  quickly  found 
a  good  tenant  in  the  agent  of  the  Rhinelander  estate. 
Our  four  daughters  were  entered  at  the  school  of  the 
Misses  Ely  on  Riverside  Drive  and  made  rapid  and 
satisfactory  progress  in  their  studies. 


164  Farewell  to  "Redstone" 

As  soon  as  we  had  become  thoroughly  accustomed 
to  life  in  New  York  I  think  every  member  of  the 
family  was  glad  of  the  change.  The  children  made 
many  pleasant  friends,  enjoyed  their  school  life,  their 
Saturday  matinees  and  drives  in  the  park,  and  not 
one  of  them  would  have  liked  to  return  to  Knoll- 
wood. 

As  for  my  wife  and  myself,  our  enjoyment  of  the 
life  was  beyond  question.  We  had  always  been  fond 
of  the  theatre  and  now  we  saw  everything  worth 
seeing.  We  had  a  delightful  circle  of  friends  whom 
we  were  meeting  continually.  Our  home  was  hand- 
some and  spacious.  Our  appointments  fitted  it  beau- 
tifully and  every  room  in  the  house,  from  the  billiard- 
room  in  the  basement,  up  through  the  four  stories, 
was  very  attractive. 

Every  pleasant  morning  I  drove  the  T-cart  or 
tandem  through  the  park  to  the  Fifty-eighth  Street 
Elevated  station,  and  in  the  afternoon,  with  the 
brougham,  after  calls  or  shopping,  my  wife  would 
meet  me.  When  there  was  sufficient  snow  to  permit 
it  we  would  have  out  the  large  sleigh,  and  with  four- 
in-hand  or  three  abreast  derive  keen  pleasure  from 
our  drive. 

For  clubs  I  had  little  use,  though  a  member  of 
several.  For  many  years  I  went  to  the  Down-Town 
Association  for  luncheon  and  occasionally  after  the 
theatre  took  my  wife  to  the  ladies'  dining-room  in 
the  Colonial  Club  for  a  supper;  as  a  rule,  however, 
we  went  for  these  suppers  to  the  Waldorf,  where  we 
usually  met  friends. 


Farewell  to  "Redstone"  165 

With  our  life  in  New  York  commenced  a  closer 
intimacy  with  the  Caines,  though  not  of  our  seeking. 
They  lived  nearer  to  us  than  any  of  our  friends  and 
their  informal  calls  became  very  frequent.  In  a  way 
we  liked  them.  They  were  chatty,  sociable  people, 
though  a  little  too  much  inclined  to  gossip.  They 
were  not  well  mated.  Both  had  tempers  and  the 
wife  had  some  money,  the  husband,  little  or  none; 
consequently  there  was  friction  and  they  lacked  the 
good  taste  to  confine  their  differences  to  the  privacy 
of  their  own  apartments.  This  was  a  great  draw- 
back to  our  enjoyment  of  their  society. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

A    SUMMER    ON    THE    SOUND 

The  winter  of  1893  and  1894,  crowded  with  its 
social  pleasures,  was  soon  over,  and  with  the 
approach  of  warm  weather  we  sought  a  summer 
home. 

We  had  passed  so  many  summers  inland,  we 
longed  for  the  water — ocean  or  sound,  preferably  the 
latter.  Many  places  on  the  Connecticut  and  Long 
Island  shores  were  looked  at  without  finding  just 
what  we  wanted,  and  it  was  not  until  the  middle  of 
June  that  we  decided  on  the  W.  H.  Crossman  place 
at  Great  Neck,  L.  I. 

The  place  had  many  attractions,  not  the  least  of 
which  was  its  accessibility  by  boat.  A  sail  of  an 
hour  twice  a  day  was  in  itself  a  great  rest  for  me, 
and  combined  with  this  was  a  commodious,  well- 
furnished  house;  fine  stable;  ample  grounds,  hand- 
somely laid  out ;  good  kitchen  garden,  planted ;  plenty 
of  fruit ;  gardener,  and  Alderney  cows  on  the  place, 
and  best  of  all  a  fine  bathing  beach  at  the  foot  of  the 
lawn,  with  the  open  Sound  before  us. 

As  I  sat  at  dinner  I  could  see  the  Sound  steamers 
go  by  on  their  way  east,  numerous  yachts  passing 


A  Summer  on  the  Sound  167 

constantly,  the  Sands  Point  Light,  and  across  the 
Sound  the  New  York  shore. 

We  drove  to  Great  Neck  from  New  York  on  the 
drag,  crossing  the  Ferry  to  College  Point. 

On  one  side  of  us  was  King's  Point,  on  the  other 
the  beautiful  residence  of  Hazen  L.  Hoyt.  The 
neighbors  were  friendly  and  cordial,  all  very  pleasant 
people ;  the  drives  through  the  surrounding  country 
delightful,  over  good  roads  and  under  great  trees 
that  afforded  effectual  shade  from  the  sun.  Later 
we  experienced  a  few  weeks  of  torment  with  the 
mosquitoes,  when  out  of  doors,  though  the  house 
was  kept  free  from  the  pests.  There  were  days 
when  my  poor  horses,  though  coal  black,  appeared 
gray,  so  thickly  were  they  covered  with  those  raven- 
ous mosquitoes. 

We  entertained  many  of  our  friends  during  the 
season  and  I  had  some  good  fishing.  When  we 
returned  to  our  home  in  the  fall,  taking  everything 
into  consideration,  we  voted  the  summer's  experience 
a  success. 

At  this  time  we  decided  to  give  our  horses  a  well- 
earned  rest.  They  were  in  perfect  condition,  but  we 
thought  it  would  be  a  good  idea  to  winter  them  on  a 
farm,  and  as  I  had  an  acquaintance  at  Boonton,  N. 
J.,  who  made  a  business  of  that  sort  of  thing,  I  sent 
them  to  him,  bringing  them  back  to  town  in  the 
spring.  They  were  well  cared  for  and  came  back  to 
us  like  young  colts. 

During  the  winter  of  1894  and  1895  we  saw  more 
of  the  Caines  than  ever.     One  evening  early  in  the 


168  A  Summer  on  the  Sound 

season,  while  on  our  way  to  the  theatre  together, 
Albert,  as  he  sat  back  in  the  carriage,  remarked,  "I 
wish  I  could  afford  to  go  to  the  theatre  once  a  week 
all  winter."  I  said,  "Albert,  I  will  tell  you  how  to 
fix  that.  You  put  in  five  hundred  dollars  and  I  will 
do  the  same.  I  will  do  a  little  operating  in  our 
market  with  it  and  we  will  devote  the  profits  entirely 
to  amusement." 

He  sent  me  his  cheque  a  day  or  two  later,  and  out 
of  the  profits  of  that  little  account  we  certainly 
derived  a  great  deal  of  pleasure.  Every  Saturday 
night  a  carriage  conveyed  us  to  the  theatre,  and  after 
the  performance  to  the  Waldorf,  where  we  had 
supper.  Then  in  the  Moorish  room  we  took  coffee 
and  liqueurs  while  smoking  a  cigar  and  chatting  with 
our  wives  and  the  friends  we  frequently  met.  Those 
little  affairs  cost  about  thirty  dollars  an  evening,  and 
I  so  managed  the  account  that  there  was  always  d 
balance  on  hand. 

On  one  of  these  evenings  an  incident  occurred  that 
threw,  to  me,  a  new  light  on  the  character  of  Albert. 
It  had  its  humor  and  I  relate  it : 

The  Caines  and  ourselves  were  in  the  Moorish 
room.  We  had  finished  our  coffee  and  I  had  paid 
the  check.  While  chatting,  we  were  joined  by  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Curtice,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Todd  and  two  other 
friends,  making  now,  with  us,  a  party  of  ten.  Albert, 
with  just  a  little  undue  haste,  called  a  waiter  and 
ordered  liqueurs  for  the  party.  When  the  check  was 
brought  him,  he  paid  for  six  and  sent  the  waiter  to 
me  to  collect  for  our  four,  the  amount  being  eighty 


A  Summer  on  the  Sound  169 

cents.  He  wanted  the  amusement  fund  to  stand  part 
of  his  hospitality.  The  others  of  the  party  noticed 
it  and  smiled  significantly.  They  knew  the  man 
better  than  I  did. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

MONMOUTH    BEACH 

Another  winter  had  gone,  leaving  in  its  wake 
agreeable  memories  of  many  happy  reunions  with 
the  friends  we  had  learned  to  love  so  well,  and  once 
again  we  faced  the  problem  that  comes  to  so  many 
New  Yorkers  who  do  not  own  their  summer  home — 
where  shall  we  go  for  the  heated  term  ? 

We  were  considering  whether  we  would  risk 
another  encounter  with  the  mosquitoes  and  try  Great 
Neck  once  more,  when  we  heard  the  Crossman  place 
had  been  rented,  and  there  was  no  other  place  there, 
in  the  market,  that  we  cared  to  take. 

Our  thoughts  turned  to  the  ocean.  With  my  wife 
I  searched  the  Jersey  coast  from  Seabright  down 
to  Asbury  Park.  Farther  than  that  we  did  not  want 
to  go  on  account  of  the  length  of  the  trip  to  and  from 
the  city. 

On  our  first  visit  we  cut  out  every  place  except 
Monmouth  Beach  and  Seabright,  and  on  the  second 
took  a  lease  of  the  Brent  Good  Cottage  at  Monmouth 
Beach.  It  was  delightfully  situated,  directly  on  the 
beach,  a  spacious  and  comfortably  furnished  house 
with  a  large  stable. 


Monmouth  Beach  171 

The  house  was  in  good  repair,  except  that  it 
needed  painting.  As  I  had  taken  a  lease  for  two 
seasons  and  the  owner  would  do  nothing,  I  had  it 
painted  at  my  expense.  We  also  did  some  redecor- 
ating in  some  of  the  rooms,  and  when  the  work  was 
finished  had  a  very  attractive  place. 

The  grand  sail  down  the  harbor  and  across  the 
lower  bay  to  the  Highlands  was  a  source  of  daily 
delight  to  me.  I  had  my  own  large  and  nicely  fur- 
nished stateroom  with  its  private  deck,  rented  by  the 
season,  and  we  were  very  glad  that  we  missed  taking 
the  place  at  Great  Neck. 

On  the  first  and  second  stories  there  were  wide 
piazzas  running  around  the  house,  and  for  hours  at 
a  time,  with  my  marine  glasses  at  hand  to  look  at 
passing  steamers,  I  sat  and  enjoyed,  what  has  always 
been  a  fascination  to  me,  watching  the  magnificent 
surf  crashing  and  dashing  on  the  beach  below.  The 
house  was  protected  by  a  formidable  bulkhead,  but 
it  was  no  uncommon  occurrence  to  have  great  show- 
ers of  spray  come  dashing  over  it. 

To  watch  the  moon  rise  out  of  the  sea,  to  listen 
to  the  roaring  of  those  ceaseless  waves,  the  last  thing 
before  I  slept  at  night  and  the  first  thing  on  awaken- 
ing in  the  morning,  had  for  me  a  charm  unequalled 
by  anything  in  Nature's  wonders.  And  those  Sep- 
tember storms,  particularly  severe  that  year,  awe- 
inspiring  in  their  mighty  grandeur. 

Oh !  there  is  nothing  like  the  ocean. 

On  July  first,  the  two  years  having  expired,  the 
commodity  in  which  we  dealt  again  went  on  the  free 


172  Monmouth  Beach 

list.  Naturally,  stocks  in  this  country  had  been 
reduced  to  a  very  low  point.  With  four  cents  per 
pound  duty  removed,  no  one  wanted  any  of  the  old 
stock,  which  had  paid  the  duty,  on  hand.  Every 
consumer  and  dealer  in  the  country  was  bare  of 
supplies  and  a  very  active  demand  from  all  sources 
set  in  immediately. 

When  we  abandoned  the  brokerage  business  to 
become  importers  and  dealers,  our  relations  with  our 
London  friends  changed.  We  bought  of  them  all 
that  we  imported  and  they  sold  to  no  other  American 
firm.  If  they  bought  in  this  market,  their  orders 
came  to  us.  With  their  movements  we  worked  in 
sympathy.  If  they  advanced  the  price  in  London 
we  did  the  same  in  New  York  and  vice-versa.  We 
were  in  constant  cable  communication,  informing 
each  other  from  hour  to  hour  of  the  market  move- 
ments. 

There  were  times,  however,  when  they  entered 
into  market  campaigns  that  extended  over  a  long 
period.  In  these  we  did  not  fully  participate.  Our 
market  was  too  narrow  to  permit  of  it,  and  it 
involved  the  locking  up  of  too  much  capital. 

In  August,  in  accordance  with  our  London  advices, 
we  began  quietly  to  accumulate  stock  in  expectation 
of  a  much  higher  market  late  in  the  fall.  We 
remained  persistent  though  quiet  buyers  until  Octo- 
ber, meanwhile  doing  our  utmost  to  hold  the  market 
down  that  we  might  buy  cheaply.  We  looked  to 
see  the  operation  completed  by  the  end  of  the  year, 
with  a  very  handsome  profit.     Early  in  October  our 


Monmouth  Beach  173 

stock  was  sufficiently  large  to  make  it  an  object  to 
advance  the  price,  and  our  buying  became  more 
aggressive. 

Just  when  the  value  began  to  rise,  the  London 
market  halted.  This  at  once  checked  the  advance  in 
New  York  and  for  the  time  being  we  had  a  waiting 
game  on  our  hands,  it  being  quite  impossible  for 
our  market  to  advance  above  the  London  parity  and 
remain  there.     We  must  wait  for  London. 

After  a  moderate  reaction  London  again  advanced 
and  we  bought  here  freely  everything  that  was 
offered.  Again  London  halted.  All  through  No- 
vember conditions  were  the  same;  a  few  days  of 
strength,  then  a  reaction,  meanwhile  our  stock  had 
been  largely  increased.  At  the  beginning  of  Decem- 
ber our  advices  from  London  led  us  to  believe  that 
all  hesitation  would  now  disappear  and  the  market 
rapidly  advance.  Our  holdings  were  already  enor- 
mous, but  we  had  no  reason  to  doubt  the  success  of 
our  operations,  and  continued  our  purchases. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE    SHIP    FOUNDERS 

December  17,  1895,  will  ever  remain  in  the 
memory  of  business  men,  at  least  of  this  generation, 
as  the  day  when  President  Cleveland  transmitted  to 
Congress  his  Venezuelan  message,  a  piece  of  jingo- 
ism which  was  entirely  uncalled  for  and  resulted  in 
disastrous  consequences  to  the  commercial  interests 
of  the  country.  It  came  as  a  flash  of  lightning  from 
a  clear  sky.  It  was  the  direct  and  immediate  cause 
of  a  stock  and  money  panic  in  Wall  Street  which, 
while  it  added  largely  to  the  wealth  of  certain  indi- 
viduals, brought  disaster  and  ruin  to  many. 

If,  my  reader,  you  do  not  already  know,  ask  any 
well-informed  stock  broker  of  that  period  who  it  was 
that  sold  the  market  short  on  an  enormous  scale  dur- 
ing the  few  days  prior  to  the  message,  and  when  he 
tells  you  the  name  draw  your  own  deductions.  You 
will  not  require  to  be  a  Sherlock  Holmes. 

We  knew  just  before  this  fateful  day  that  at  last 
we  had  undertaken  an  operation  which  was  to  result 
in  loss,  and  a  heavy  one,  but  we  never  dreamed  it 
was  to  be  our  Waterloo — nor  would  it  have  been 
except  for  the  acute  stringency  in  the  money  market, 
the  result  of  that  Venezuelan  message. 


The  Ship  Founders  175 

Our  commitments  for  the  end  of  December  and 
first  week  of  January  were  unusually  heavy.  We 
met  them  with  increasing  difficulty  until  the  twenty- 
eighth  of  December  and  then  came  our  failure. 

I  was  dazed  at  the  extent  of  the  catastrophe.  I 
could  not  realize  that  a  business  which  I  had  built  up 
from  nothing  to  a  volume  of  nearly  fifteen  millions 
a  year,  with  more  than  eight  hundred  active  accounts 
on  the  books,  and  out  of  which  I  had  made  a  fortune, 
was  swept  away,  leaving  me  only  a  mountain  of  debt. 

Alas,  it  was  only  too  true.  The  liabilities  were 
nearly  one  and  one-half  millions.  Of  course,  there 
were  large  assets,  mostly  merchandise,  but  every- 
thing was  gone,  and  my  wife  threw  in  "Redstone," 
which  had  cost  me  forty  thousand  dollars,  with  the 
rest. 

As  soon  as  I  recovered  myself,  I  had  a  meeting 
with  my  creditors,  all  of  whom  were  most  kindly 
disposed,  and  my  statement  was  accepted  without 
any  examination  of  the  books  of  the  firm.  Outside 
of  our  regular  bankers  we  had  heavy  loans  in  which 
there  were  large  equities.  Arrangements  were  made 
and  these  loans  taken  up  at  once. 

Our  position  had  been  so  prominent  and  our  hold- 
ings were  so  large,  the  news  of  the  failure  caused 
a  heavy  decline,  which  carried  the  price  down  to 
almost  the  lowest  figure  in  the  history  of  the  trade ; 
but  not  one  ton  of  our  stock  was  thrown  on  the 
market  and  we  ourselves  liquidated  the  business  over 
a  period  of  several  months. 


176  The  Ship  Founders 

Our  former  clerk,  the  broker,  George  Norman, 
also  failed,  claiming  our  failure  as  the  cause. 

In  our  operations  it  was  often  necessary  to  cover 
our  identity  by  using  a  broker's  name,  an  established 
custom  in  many  lines  of  business.  We  had  favored 
George  largely  and  our  business  had  been  very  profit- 
able to  him.  We  did  not  know  at  the  time,  but 
learned  a  little  later,  that  prices  on  the  contracts 
made  through  him  were  on  our  books  in  excess  of 
the  prices  he  had  paid  the  seller,  whereas  they  should 
have  agreed.  This  really  made  him  a  principal 
instead  of  a  broker.  Actually  he  had  bought  of  the 
sellers  for  his  own  account  at  one  price  and  sold  to 
us  at  a  higher  price,  he  making  the  difference  in 
addition  to  his  commissions.  His  representations  to 
us  were  always  that  the  price  we  were  paying  him 
was  the  lowest  the  seller  would  accept. 

Norman  also  had  been  operating  on  his  own 
account,  and  by  failing  escaped  his  losses.  The 
general  opinion  of  the  trade  was  that  he  really  made 
money  by  his  failure. 

On  our  books  at  the  time  of  the  failure  were  a 
number  of  discretionary  accounts.  All  of  these 
clients  were  our  friends,  and  most  of  them  had  been 
with  us  for  many  years  and  had  received  their  invest- 
ments back  in  profits  over  and  over  again.  In  order 
to  do  justice  to  all  we  had  to  syndicate  these  accounts. 
The  combined  capital  was  large  and  the  operations 
had  always  been  very  profitable. 

These  clients  had  come  to  us  without  our  solicita- 
tion and  it  was  distinctly  understood  from  the  start 


The  Ship  Founders  177 

that  their  investment  was  at  their  own  risk.  All 
this  money  was  now  lost.  We  had  no  legal  liability, 
but  we  did  feel,  as  they  were  friends,  that  there  was 
a  moral  responsibility  and  we  told  them  one  and  all 
we  would  accept  it. 

We  did  something  else  for  them;  a  few  knew  it 
at  the  time  and  showed  their  appreciation.  Some 
of  them  will  not  know  it  until  they  read  it  here. 

Every  one  of  those  clients  could  have  been  held 
as  an  undisclosed  partner,  for  a  very  large  part  of 
our  losses  were  made  in  the  December  operations  for 
the  syndicate.  Morally,  they  were  not  responsible, 
for  they  never  intended  assuming  any  such  liability, 
nor  would  we  have  allowed  them  to ;  but  legally, 
technically,  they  were  liable,  and  we  saved  them, 
keeping  the  burden  where  it  had  fallen,  on  our  own 
shoulders.  We  had  one  discretionary  account  that 
was  not  in  the  syndicate.  It  was  the  account  of 
Albert  Caine.  This  was  operated  under  our  guar- 
antee against  loss,  we  taking  half  the  profits  as  com- 
pensation for  the  guarantee.  Although  this  account 
stood  in  Albert's  name,  it  was  his  wife's  money  and 
her  investment.  It  had  been  running  for  a  long  time 
and  profits  had  been  paid  her  to  the  extent  of  about 
forty-seven  hundred  dollars. 

Although  we  had  not  the  affection  for  the  Caines 
we  had  for  others  in  our  circle  of  friends,  we  were 
extremely  intimate.  I  have  told  of  our  amusement 
fund  and  of  how  residing  near  each  other  we  were 
meeting  them  continually.  They  had  visited  us  at 
"Redstone,"  at  Great  Neck,  and  at  Monmouth  Beach, 


178  The  Ship  Founders 

and  I  hardly  expected  they  would  be  the  first  to 
desert  us.     They  were — and  worse. 

As  soon  as  Caine  heard  of  the  failure  he  began  a 
search  for  property  to  attach.  He  told  a  mutual 
friend  that  papers  were  being  drawn  to  attach  the 
horses  and  carriages  and  the  house  furniture.  For 
some  reason  he  changed  his  mind,  which  was  just  as 
well,  as  all  were  beyond  his  reach. 

Then  he  made  a  statement  reflecting  on  me,  giving 
as  his  authority  my  bankers,  on  whom  he  had  called. 
This  I  took  up  at  once.     I  knew  it  was  false. 

Without  letting  him  know  the  object,  I  arranged 
an  interview  at  my  lawyer's  office,  which  he  attended, 
accompanied  by  his  lawyer.  I  had  asked  George 
Todd  to  be  there  as  a  witness  who  could  relate  an 
account  of  the  interview  to  our  mutual  friends. 
Caine,  when  he  saw  Todd,  objected  to  his  presence, 
but  he  remained. 

My  lawyer  repeated  the  statement  and  asked  Caine 
if  he  had  made  it.  He  replied,  "Yes."  He  asked 
him  if  the  banker  had  told  him  this,  and  he  answered, 
"No." 

Then  Todd  said,  "Albert,  do  I  understand  you  to 
say  that  this  statement  you  made  and  said  you  had 
heard  from  the  bankers,  you  admit  having  made, 
and  now  say  that  you  did  not  hear  it  and  that  it  was 
a  lie?"  To  which  he  replied,  "Yes,"  and  burst  into 
tears.  That  ended  the  interview  and  thereafter  the 
Caines  were  ostracised  by  our  circle  of  friends. 

A  little  later  Mrs.  Caine  commenced  suit.  Just  to 
tease  her  I  fought  the  case,  claiming  that  while  guar- 


The  Ship  Founders  179 

anteeing  against  loss,  I  had  not  guaranteed  profits, 
and  that  these  should  be  deducted.  After  keeping 
her  on  the  "anxious  seat"  for  about  two  years  she 
secured  a  judgment  for  the  full  amount,  and  she 
owns  to-day  the  only  judgment  against  me.  She 
would  have  had  more  money  now  had  she  remained 
a  friend. 

There  were  two  of  my  liabilities  that  distressed 
me  far  more  than  the  others  and  one  of  these  caused 
me  the  keenest  anguish  of  mind.  At  the  time  of  the 
settlement  of  the  Slater  estate,  Mr.  Pell,  Mrs.  Slater's 
father,  was  a  creditor  for  fourteen  thousand  dollars. 
Frank  had  been  using  this  money  and  had  paid  Mr. 
Pell  ten  per  cent,  per  annum  on  it,  not  regarding  it 
as  a  matter  of  interest,  but  merely  to  give  the  old 
gentleman,  who  was  out  of  business  and  becoming 
feeble,  a  certain  amount  of  income.  Mr.  Pell  asked 
me  as  a  favor  to  take  this  money  and  do  the  same 
for  him  as  Frank  had  been  doing.  I  did  so,  and 
later  he  added  two  thousand  dollars  to  the  amount, 
so  that  I  owed  him  in  all  sixteen  thousand  dollars. 

The  other  liability  was  for  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars  due  to  Mrs.  Slater.  There  had  been  a  time 
a  year  or  two  back  when  temporarily  my  resources 
were  pretty  well  tied  up,  and  I  then  borrowed  this 
amount  of  Mrs.  Slater.  When  I  asked  her  at  the 
time  if  she  wanted  to  help  me  out,  she  replied,  "I  am 
only  too  delighted,  Walter,  to  do  anything  you  ask," 
and  she  meant  it.  The  loan  was  made  without 
security  and  was  an  act  of  purest  friendship.  To 
make  it  she  had  to  withdraw  the  money  from  her 


180  The  Ship  Founders 

invested  funds  and  of  course  I  told  her  this  would 
not  diminish  her  income. 

It  was  this  liability  to  Mrs.  Slater  that  caused  me 
such  torture  of  mind.  The  one  thing  that  slightly 
relieved  this  feeling  was  the  knowledge  that  neither 
she  nor  Mr.  Pell  wanted  the  money.  If  the  income 
could  be  kept  up,  and  this  I  hoped  to  accomplish,  I 
could  take  my  own  time  for  repayment  of  the 
principal. 

My  mail  was  crowded  for  days  with  letters  of 
sympathy.  Practically  all  our  out-of-town  customers 
wrote  us,  and  to  their  kindly  expressions  of  regret 
for  our  disaster  was  added  the  hope  that  we  would 
continue  in  business,  and  promises  of  hearty  support 
in  the  matter  of  sending  us  their  orders. 

With  our  competitors  it  was  different.  One  or 
two  called  on  us  and  were  sincere  in  their  regret. 
Others,  as  we  met  them,  talked  the  same  way,  but 
we  knew  they  did  not  mean  it;  and  one,  a  Sunday- 
school  teacher  whom  I  described  in  an  earlier  chapter 
as  doing  business  on  a  paving-stone  heart,  was 
reported  to  me  as  having  made  derogatory  remarks 
regarding  us. 

As  soon  as  this  report  reached  me,  I  went  at  once 
to  his  office,  and  while  his  face  crimsoned  in  his 
confusion  at  being  confronted,  he  denied  that  he  had 
made  the  remark.  I  accepted  his  denial,  though  I 
did  not  believe  him.  I  had  no  more  use  for  him 
than  for  the  sort  of  Christianity  of  which  he  is  an 
example,  and  thereafter  I  treated  him  with  the  barest 
civility. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

THE    FAMILY    AND    FRIENDS 

One  of  my  friends  once  said  to  me,  "Stowe,  it  is 
worth  all  the  trouble  you  have  had  to  find  out  what 
a  noble  woman  your  wife  is" ;  and  his  wife  added, 
"She  is  the  bravest  woman  I  ever  knew." 

Did  not  I  know  full  well  the  bravery  of  the 
woman  ? 

Had  not  her  character  and  nobility  of  soul  been 
revealed  to  me  time  and  again  in  the  troubles  that 
beset  us  in  the  early  years  of  our  married  life?  True, 
this  catastrophe  immeasurably  overshadowed  any- 
thing that  had  come  to  us  before,  but  I  knew  how 
my  wife  would  take  it  and  I  was  not  disappointed. 

If  it  were  possible,  she  loved  me  more  than  ever. 
Her  constant  effort  was  to  cheer  me  up,  keep  up  my 
courage  by  imparting  her  own  brave  spirit  to  mine. 
Never  a  word  of  regret  for  all  the  luxuries  and  many 
comforts  that  must  now  be  given  up,  never  a  sus- 
picion of  despondency.  Only  the  brightest  of  smiles 
and  most  tender  caresses  were  lavished  on  me  by  my 
devoted  wife,  and  with  all  was  her  earnest  desire  to 
do  what  she  could  to  lighten  my  burdens  and  to  share 
in  the  struggle  before  us. 


182  The  Family  and  Friends 

The  same  spirit  animated  the  children.  One  and 
all  they  supported  me  by  their  strong  affection  shown 
in  every  possible  way. 

Immediately  following  my  disaster  the  loyalty  and 
regard  of  my  social  friends,  with  the  one  exception 
of  the  Caines,  was  shown  on  all  sides.  Kindly  letters 
and  personal  calls  were  numerous  and  did  much  to 
relieve  the  terrible  feeling  of  despondency  that 
weighed  me  down. 

The  bright  particular  star  in  this  firmament  of 
friends  was  Mrs.  Slater.  She  had  made  a  heavy 
loss  that  she  could  ill  afford  and  she  accepted  it  with- 
out a  shadow  of  reproach  to  me.  Of  course  she 
expected  and  hoped  that  at  some  time  I  would  be 
able  to  repay  her,  but  this  thought  did  not  influence 
her  in  her  staunch  friendship.  Had  she  known  there 
was  no  possible  hope  of  my  ever  repaying  her,  her 
feeling  toward  me  would  have  been  the  same.  Mrs. 
Caine,  who  knew  her,  while  calling  and  in  a  spirit 
of  malice  endeavored  to  turn  her  against  me.  As  a 
result,  the  call  was  never  returned,  and  the  acquaint- 
ance ceased. 

At  this  time  I  was  seeking  no  favors  from  friends 
except  in  one  little  matter  in  which  I  was  assisted  by 
George  Todd  and  Will  Curtice.  They  were  not 
called  upon  for  financial  aid,  but  they  guaranteed  my 
carrying  out  an  agreement  which  made  them  jointly 
liable  to  the  extent  of  four  thousand  dollars.  I 
fulfilled  my  obligation  and  then  returned  their 
guarantee. 


The  Family  and  Friends  183 

The  spirit  shown  by  the  tradespeople  with  whom 
I  had  dealings  touched  me  deeply.  I  had  always 
been  prompt  in  the  settlement  of  bills  and  immedi- 
ately after  my  failure  every  account  of  this  character 
was  paid  at  once.  Of  course  we  immediately  cut 
off  all  unnecessary  expense. 

King,  the  well-known  up-town  fish  dealer,  had 
been  serving  us  oysters  and  fish  regularly  each  day. 
We  were  through  now  with  course  dinners  and  these 
items  were  cut  out.  The  next  day  I  received  a  letter 
from  him,  from  which  I  quote  : 

"I  want  your  trade  if  it's  only  a  pound  of  codfish 
a  week,  and  you  can  pay  once  a  month,  once  a  year, 
or  whenever  it  pleases  you." 

Then  there  was  old  Tom  Ward,  the  coal  dealer. 
I  had  in  my  cellar  about  thirty  tons  of  coal  and  I 
called  at  his  office  to  get  him  to  send  for  it  and  pay 
me  what  he  could  afford  to.  As  I  entered  the  door 
he  sprang  forward  with  outstretched  hand,  saying, 
"Mr.  Stowe,  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  and  I  want  to  say 
you're  the  whitest  little  man  on  the  West  Side,  and 
I  have  a  few  hundred  dollars  in  the  bank.  If  you 
want  them  you're  welcome  to  them."  My  tailor, 
with  whom  I  had  traded  for  a  great  many  years, 
told  me  I  could  always  have  anything  in  his  shop 
and  no  bills  would  be  rendered  until  asked  for.  And 
so  it  was  with  all. 

Of  the  house  on  Eighty-sixth  Street,  I  had  a  lease 
at  three  thousand  dollars  a  year.  My  landlord,  Mr. 
W.  E.  D.  Stokes,  told  me  to  "remain  until  the  end 
of  the  lease   and  not  bother  about  the  rent."     I 


184  The  Family  and  Friends 

accepted  this  offer  for  one  month.  The  Misses  Ely, 
where  the  girls  attended  school,  called  on  my  wife 
and  asked  her  to  continue  the  girls  for  the  rest  of 
the  school  year  without  charge.  The  larger  trades- 
men, such  as  Tiffany,  Altman;  Arnold,  Constable, 
and  the  like,  all  wanted  our  account  kept  on  their 
books,  but  we  were  through  with  the  pomps  and 
vanities  and  had  no  use  for  them.  My  coachman 
offered  me  his  savings  and  with  the  house  servants 
it  was  the  same. 

Before  the  end  of  January  arrangements  had  been 
completed  for  our  new  scale  of  living.  The  horses 
and  carriages,  representing  an  investment  of  ten 
thousand  dollars,  I  sold  for  less  than  two  thousand. 
There  was  no  time  to  look  for  buyers  and  I  made  a 
forced  sale.  Of  the  contents  of  our  home  we  sold 
nothing  except  a  panoply  of  armor  and  one  piece  of 
bronze.  These,  Mrs.  Viedler,  who  had  always 
admired  them,  bought,  and  added  to  the  appoint- 
ments of  her  Fifth  Avenue  home. 

At  Westfield,  N.  J.,  we  were  offered  a  large  house 
with  modern  conveniences,  well-stocked  conserva- 
tory and  attractive  grounds,  at  a  rental  of  fifty 
dollars  per  month.  This  we  accepted,  and  on  the 
eighth  of  February  took  possession. 

Before  leaving  the  city  we  were  entertained  at  a 
series  of  dinners  and  theatre  parties  given  by  our 
friends  of  the  "Immortal  Ten,"  and  though  these 
occasions  were  somewhat  saddening,  partaking  of 
the  nature  of  a  farewell  honor  to  a  fallen  "Prince," 
we  appreciated  the  compliment. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 


W.    E.    STOWE   &   COv    INCORPORATED 

At  the  suggestion  of  my  attorneys,  I  decided  to 
continue  the  business  as  a  corporation. 

The  reason  for  this  was  that  I  wanted  to  continue 
under  the  same  firm  name  and  not  as  an  agent,  and 
while  aside  from  Caine  there  were  no  antagonistic 
creditors,  it  was  deemed  wise  to  provide  against  any 
possibility  of  such  appearing  later  on  and  jeopard- 
izing the  new  capital  which  I  expected  to  raise  with- 
out difficulty. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  no  creditor  except  Caine  ever 
assumed  such  an  attitude. 

Under  the  laws  of  West  Virginia  a  corporation 
was  organized  as  W.  E.  Stowe  &  Co.,  Incorporated. 

The  charter  was  made  broad  enough  to  cover 
every  possible  branch  of  the  business  and  the  capital 
stock  fixed  at  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  with 
liberty  to  increase  to  one  million. 

The  organization  was  completed  by  electing  as 
officers  members  of  my  family,  and  the  ten  per  cenc. 
required  by  law  to  be  paid  in  was  raised  in  part  by 
my  wife  by  the  sale  of  personal  property  and  the 


186         "W.  E.  Stowe  &  Co.,  Incorporated" 

remainder  by  myself  in  a  loan  from  a  gentleman  who 
was  one  of  the  heaviest  losers  in  the  operations 
carried  on  for  our  friends. 

My  bankers,  within  certain  reasonable  limits  and 
restrictions,  promised  me  their  assistance,  and  I 
believed  I  would  soon  again  be  on  the  highway  to 
prosperity. 

The  first  step  was  to  raise  the  twenty-two  thousand 
five  hundred  dollars  to  complete  the  capitalization. 

This  seemed  easy;  why  not?  There  was  my 
friend  Viedler ;  a  man  worth  several  millions.  He 
had  been  warmly  sympathetic  in  his  expressions  of 
regret  at  my  misfortune.  He  and  Mrs.  Viedler  had 
always  shown  a  cordial  fondness  for  us,  which  we 
reciprocated.  The  social  intimacy  had  been  close 
and  always  delightful. 

At  first  I  thought  I  would  ask  him  for  the  entire 
amount,  then  concluded  to  ask  for  five  thousand 
dollars,  really  believing  he  would  comply  with 
pleasure  and  offer  more  if  wanted. 

I  wrote  him  asking  for  the  money  as  a  loan,  telling 
him  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  wanted  and  offer- 
ing to  give  him  a  lien  on  my  library,  if  he  so  desired, 
as  security. 

By  return  mail  came  a  brief  reply,  typewritten  and 
signed  by  his  secretary :  "Mr.  Viedler  makes  no 
more  personal  loans." 

That  was  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  communi- 
cation, and  the  first  intimation  I  had  that  another 
friend  had  deserted  us.  It  was  such  a  surprise  that 
I  did  not  fully  realize  the  fact  until  I  had  re-read  the 
letter. 


"W.  E.  Stowe  &  Co.,  Incorporated"         187 

Some  months  later  I  was  informed,  to  my  com- 
plete astonishment,  that  Mr.  Viedler  had  some  feel- 
ing against  me  because  I  had  not  protected  him  on 
that  note  for  five  thousand  dollars  he  held  and  which 
it  will  be  remembered  I  gave  to  Banford  in  1893 
without  any  consideration  and  solely  as  a  matter  of 
accommodation  to  him.  The  pearls  which  I  held  as 
security  for  the  money  due  me  from  Banford,  had 
been,  at  Viedler's  request,  consigned  to  him  for  sale, 
under  an  agreement  by  which  Banford  was  to  pay 
out  of  the  proceeds,  to  Mr.  Viedler,  the  amount  of 
note  with  interest.  At  the  time  of  the  consignment 
I  handed  to  Mr.  Viedler's  secretary  an  order  on 
Banford  directing  him  to  do  this. 

If  Mr.  Viedler  had  considered  that  note  my 
liability  it  is  most  singular  he  did  not  demand  pay- 
ment at  its  maturity  early  in  1894. 

As  soon  as  I  learned  of  his  feeling  in  the  matter 
I  wrote  him  on  the  subject  and  asked  for  an  inter- 
view that  we  might  go  into  every  detail  of  the 
transaction.  This  he  declined,  and  it  then  became 
evident  to  me  he  knew  there  was  no  cause  for  the 
feeling  he  claimed  to  have,  and  his  refusing  to  aid 
me  was  simply  for  the  reason  he  did  not  want  to, 
which,  of  course,  was  his  indisputable  right. 

Well ;  Viedler  had  failed  me,  who  next  ? 

On  my  desk,  amongst  the  letters  of  sympathy 
received  immediately  after  my  failure,  was  one  from 
a  prominent  Wall  Street  man,  whom  I  had  known 
for  many  years  and  who  for  a  time  had  been  one  of 
my  neighbors  at  Knollwood.  I  wrote  to  him  about 
the  same  as  I  had  written  Viedler. 


188         "W.  E.  Stowe  &  Co.,  Incorporated" 

The  return  mail  brought  his  reply,  written  per- 
sonally, expressing  regret  that  he  was  "unable  to 
assist  me  as  he  was  a  large  borrower  himself." 

All  stock  brokers  are  large  borrowers  in  their 
business,  but  here  was  an  instance  in  which  this 
universal  custom  was  given  as  an  excuse  for  not 
making  a  loan  of  five  thousand  dollars  to  a  friend  in 
trouble. 

And  who  was  this  man?  Here  is  what  Thomas 
W.  Lawson  had  to  say  of  him  in  one  of  the  chapters 
of  "Frenzied  Finance"  : 

t***m***  deserves  more  than  a  mere  passing 
mention  here,  for  he  was  at  this  time  a  distinguished  Wall 
Street  character  and  one  of  the  ablest  practitioners  of  finance 
in  the  Country.  During  the  last  fifteen  years  of  his  life, 
M.  *  *  *  was  party  to  more  confidential  jobs  and  deals  than 
all  other  contemporaneous  financiers,  and  he  handled  them  with 
great  skill  and  high  art.  Big,  jolly,  generous,  a  royal  eater  and 
drinker,  an  associate  of  the  rich,  the  friend  of  the  poor,  a 
many-times  millionaire." 

Another  friend  off  the  list — but  there  were  many 
left.  Now  for  the  next  one.  "The  third  time  a 
charm' ' — perhaps. 

Again  I  turned  to  the  letters  on  my  desk.  This 
time  I  took  up  one  from  a  former  mayor  of  New 
York.  A  man  widely  known,  politically,  socially, 
and  as  a  philanthropist. 

His  kind  letter  when  received  had  been  a  pleasant 
surprise  to  me.  I  had  known  him  but  a  few  years 
and  could  not  claim  a  very  close  intimacy,  though  he 
had  always  been  most  cordial  and  our  families  were 
acquainted.     As  I  re-read  his  letter  it  seemed  to  me 


"W.  E.  Stowe  &  Co.,  Incorporated"         189 

as  if  it  invited  me  to  address  him  under  just  such 
circumstances  as  then  existed. 

Again,  and  for  the  third  time,  my  messenger  went 
forth  seeking  for  the  friend  who  would  help  a  man 
when  he  is  down. 

The  reply  came  promptly  enough  and  brought  me 
the  information  that  my  friend  did  not  "desire  to 
invest  in  any  new  business." 

I  had  not  asked  him  to ;  my  request  was  for  a  loan, 
but  his  answer  was  all-sufficient. 

Despondency  followed.  Where  is  the  use  ?  I  asked 
myself.  "To  succeed  is  to  win  fame;  to  fail  a 
crime."  "The  world  has  no  use  for  an  unsuccessful 
man."  Thus  I  gave  up  the  attempt  to  raise  a  sum 
of  money  that,  before  I  made  the  effort,  seemed  but 
a  trifle,  "light  as  air." 

During  the  summer  two  of  our  Connecticut 
friends,  who  had  been  members  of  the  syndicate, 
between  them  made  me  a  loan  of  six  thousand 
dollars,  and  this  gave  me  a  capital  of  eighty-five 
hundred  dollars.  With  this  I  attempted  to  save 
what  I  could  of  the  enormous  business  I  had  built 
up.  How  absurd  it  seemed,  and  yet  my  courage  was 
far  from  gone. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

V 

THE    STRUGGLE    COMMENCED 

By  midsummer  of  1896  the  liquidation  of  the 
affairs  of  the  old  firm  was  practically  completed ;  that 
is,  in  so  far  as  related  to  the  conversion  of  our  assets 
into  cash  and  payment  of  the  proceeds  to  our  cred- 
itors. These  payments  were  very  large,  but  there 
was  still  a  heavy  deficiency,  which  I  hoped  in  time 
to  pay  in  full  with  interest,  gigantic  as  the  burden 
seemed. 

Every  business  day  found  me  at  my  office  working 
early  and  late  as  I  had  never  worked  before.  With 
but  one  clerk  and  an  office-boy,  a  vast  amount  of 
detail  had  to  be  undertaken  by  myself.  Night  after 
night  my  thoughts  were  almost  constantly  on  plans 
to  keep  together  the  business  I  had  established. 

I  was  fighting  an  octopus.  My  competitors  all 
were  arrayed  against  me  with  a  force  I  had  never 
before  experienced.  They  spared  no  effort  to  crush 
the  man  who  had  beaten  them  over  and  over  again 
in  battles  for  commercial  supremacy.  It  was  their 
turn  now  and  they  showed  no  mercy. 

But  how  different  was  the  warfare  waged  on  me ! 
In  the  days  gone  by  I  had  struck  them  powerful 
blows,  straight  from  the  shoulder ;  but  a  foul  blow  ? 


The  Struggle  Commenced  191 

— never!  No  man,  living  or  dead,  can  or  could 
say  I  did  not  fight  fair.  Nor  did  I  ever  press  an 
advantage  unduly  or  profit  by  the  necessities  of  a 
competitor. 

Here  was  one  enemy,  sneaking  through  the  trade 
with  his  lying  tongue,  always  under  cover,  doing  his 
utmost  to  injure  me.  Had  that  man  forgotten  the 
day  in  1888  when  he  came  to  my  office  and  told  me 
he  would  be  ruined  unless  our  London  friends  would 
accept  a  compromise  from  him  and  asked  me  to  cable 
urging  them  to  do  so?  Had  he  forgotten  how  on 
the  following  day,  when  I  showed  him  the  reply 
reading,  "Risk  of  buyers  does  not  concern  us.  Can- 
not assist,"  he  raised  his  hands,  and  shouting,  "My 
God !  what  shall  I  do  ?"  almost  collapsed  ?  Surely  he 
must  have  forgotten  how  I  told  him  I  would  stand 
between  him  and  ruin,  allowed  him  to  settle  on  his 
own  terms,  and  carried  him  along  for  years. 

Here  was  another  enemy,  a  different  stripe  of 
man.  He  sat  in  his  palatial  office  and  never  let  an 
opportunity  pass  to  thrust  a  knife  in  my  back.  His 
blows,  less  coarse  and  brutal,  were  even  more  effec- 
tive, for  they  were  backed  by  the  weight  of  great 
wealth  and  respectability.  An  adept  in  the  refine- 
ment of  cruelty,  between  Sundays,  when  as  a  vestry- 
man of  a  prominent  church  he  presumably  asked 
forgiveness  of  his  sins,  he  did  all  that  he  could 
by  false  insinuations  to  help  along  the  work  of  put- 
ting down  and  out  forever  the  man  who  had  never 
done  him  an  injury,  or  conquered  him  in  any  way 
not  warranted  by  fair  and  generous  business  com- 
petition. 


192  The  Struggle  Commenced 

There  were  many  like  this  man. 

I  had  to  fight  against  practically  unlimited  wealth 
in  the  hands  of  a  score  of  bitter  enemies,  men  with- 
out conscience  in  the  matter  of  crushing  a  competi- 
tor. Anything  to  beat  Stowe  was  the  war-cry; 
get  the  orders  away  from  him,  no  matter  what  the 
cost,  the  plan  of  campaign.  Those  men  knew  I 
could  not  long  survive  if  they  could  keep  me  from 
getting  business. 

To  fight  them  back  I  had  complete  knowledge  of 
the  trade,  great  personal  popularity  with  my  custom- 
ers, and  only  eighty-five  hundred  dollars  capital. 
The  last  item  was  the  weak  point.  Had  I  controlled 
even  only  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  I  believe 
with  all  their  wealth  I  could  have  beaten  them  to  a 
standstill. 

My  customers  stood  nobly  by  me.  There  were 
hundreds  of  instances  when  telegrams  came  to  the 
office  advising  me  of  my  competitors'  quotations  and 
giving  me  the  opportunity  to  meet  the  price  and 
secure  the  business.  I  never  lost  an  order  that  the 
buyer  did  not  write  and  express  his  regret  at  our 
failure  to  secure  it ;  but  I  could  not  do  business  at  a 
loss,  my  competitors  knew  this,  and  that  sooner  or 
later  they  must  surely  win  the  fight. 

From  business  on  the  Exchange  I  was  barred 
until  after  final  settlement  with  creditors.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  this  was  more  of  a  loss  to  the  Ex- 
change than  to  me.  During  1895  our  name  had 
appeared  on  the  contracts  of  fully  ninety  per  cent, 
of  all  the  business  done  on  the  floor,  and  in  the 


The  Struggle  Commenced  193 

five  years  immediately  following  our  failure  the 
entire  business  did  not  equal  that  of  any  two  months 
in  1895. 

On  December  31st  I  found  the  volume  of  business 
for  the  year  had  been  less  than  a  million  of  dollars 
as  compared  with  nearly  fifteen  millions  in  1895. 

Competition  had  cut  into  the  percentage  of  profit 
to  such  an  extent  that  what  I  had  made  was  insuffi- 
cient to  counterbalance  my  expenditures. 

Office  and  home  expenses  had  been  kept  down  to 
small  figures ;  I  had  made  the  regular  monthly  pay- 
ments to  Mrs.  Slater  and  to  Mr.  Pell  and  in  addition 
made  some  payments  of  interest  on  the  moral  obli- 
gations to  our  Connecticut  friends,  but  my  little 
capital  had  to  some  extent  been  impaired. 

The  year  at  Westfield  in  its  home  life  was  far 
from  unpleasant.  Our  reduced  circumstances  had 
not  deprived  us  of  the  ordinary  comforts.  We  still 
had  our  library  and  the  handsome  appointments  of 
our  former  home,  and  though  these  latter  were  out  of 
keeping  with  the  house  we  enjoyed  them. 

The  game  of  billiards  after  dinner,  while  I  smoked 
my  cigar,  served  to  distract  for  the  time  being  my 
thoughts  from  business  worries,  and  for  out-of-door 
exercise  we  took  almost  daily  spins  on  our  wheels, 
which  had  been  substituted  for  the  horses. 

We  made  one  delightful  trip  on  those  wheels 
during  the  summer.  With  my  wife,  a  son  and  a 
daughter,  we  started  on  Friday  afternoon,  and  after 
spending  the  night  at  Morristown,  went  on  the  next 
day  to  Lake  Hopatcong,  returning  home  on  Monday 
(Labor  Day). 


194  The  Struggle  Commenced 

On  Sunday,  in  our  wandering,  we  visited  all  the 
familiar  spots  and  recalled  the  many  drag  trips 
we  had  taken  there  with  our  friends  as  our  guests 
and  wondered  if  we  would  ever  again  repeat  those 
pleasant  experiences. 

.We  dwelt  particularly  on  one  trip,  brought  to 
mind  by  a  visit  to  the  Bertrand  Island  Club.  While 
there  we  looked  back  in  the  register  at  a  sketch  made 
by  my  friend  and  architect,  Charlie  Fitch.  He  and 
his  wife  were  included  with  our  guests  on  that  occa- 
sion, and  after  asking  me  to  allow  him  to  register 
the  party  he  filled  a  page  with  an  artistic  sketch 
of  "Redstone"  with  the  drag  in  the  foreground. 

Charlie  Wood  and   his    wife  also    were   of   that 

party,  and  at  a  dinner  at  "Redstone"  on  our  return 

he  sang  a  song  composed  by  himself  for  the  occasion. 

I  quote  a  few  lines : 

i 

"Here's  a  good  health  to  the  Lake  in  the  hills, 
Here's  to  the  hand  that  our  glass  ever  fills, 
The  Kodak  and  Banjo  ; 
But  principally,  mind  you, 
To  the  fellow  who  pays  the  bills." 

This  chapter  covering  the  first  year  after  my  fail- 
ure would  be  incomplete  without  its  testimony  to 
the  devotion  of  my  wife  and  children  under  the 
new  conditions.  My  wife  was  a  glorious  sunbeam 
whose  rays  of  cheerfulness  never  dimmed.  Her 
wonderful  spirits  and  courage  lifted  me  out  of  the 
Slough  of  Despondency,  and  her  love  and  tenderness 
supported  me  through  every  trial. 


The  Struggle  Commenced  195 

The  children,  from  my  elder  son,  who  had  cut 
short  his  college  course  and  joined  me  in  the  office, 
down  to  the  baby  of  the  family,  then  a  girl  of  eight 
years,  were  constant  in  their  efforts  to  contribute  to 
my  comfort  and  happiness. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE    STRUGGLE    CONTINUED 

At  the  commencement  of  1897  it  seemed  as  if 
everything  was  against  me.  In  the  trade  the  fight 
for  my  customers  was  waged  with  renewed  vigor, 
and  one  after  another  names  which  had  been  on 
our  books  for  years  were  dropped  from  the  lists  of 
our  supporters.  We  tried  to  retain  them  and  they 
tried  to  have  us  do  so,  giving  us  every  possible 
advantage,  but  it  was  useless. 

We  could  not  compete  against  the  wealth  of  our 
competitors.  In  our  efforts  to  do  this  we  made 
losses,  small  in  individual  instances,  but  we  knew 
if  continued  our  little  capital  would  soon  be  ex- 
hausted. Our  banking  facilities  since  the  liquidation 
of  the  old  affairs  had  been  greatly  restricted.  The 
business  was  now  too  small  to  be  of  any  interest  to 
the  bankers  and  the  commissions  exacted  cut  into 
the  profits  to  such  an  extent  there  was  nothing  left 
for  us. 

With  no  capital,  our  London  connection  had  en- 
tirely lost  its  value,  and  this  same  lack  of  capital  pre- 
vented us  from  doing  business  with  our  old  specu- 
lative clients. 


The  Struggle  Continued  197 

With  my  mind  harassed  by  the  weight  of  my 
monthly  obligations,  support  of  family,  office  ex- 
penses, payments  to  Mrs.  Slater  and  Mr.  Pell,  and 
the  more  or  less  constant  inquiry  from  some  of  my 
moral  (as  I  call  them)  creditors  as  to  how  soon  I 
could  commence  making  them  monthly  payments, 
my  brain  was  well-nigh  turned. 

I  was  beginning  to  realize  the  true  meaning  of 
the  word  desperation.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  in  this 
condition  of  mind  my  judgment  should  have  failed 
me  or  that  my  operations  should  turn  out  badly? 
At  all  events,  such  was  the  case.  Whatever  I  did  in 
the  market  it  always  seemed  as  if  a  relentless  fate 
pursued  me. 

I  felt  as  if  I  must  make  money  and  I  lost  it. 

Through  this  time  of  trial  my  wife  was  still  the 
same  loving,  cheerful  helpmate.  Nothing  could 
daunt  her  courage  nor  depress  her  spirits.  If  she 
had  her  hours  of  worry,  she  kept  them  from  me. 

We  decided  to  move  into  a  smaller  house  and  sell 
our  surplus  household  appointments,  works  of  art, 
and  my  library.  It  was  hard  to  part  with  all  the 
beautiful  things  we  had  lived  amongst  so  long,  and 
when  it  came  to  the  library  I  fear  our  tears  were 
very  close  to  the  surface. 

We  arranged  for  a  small  house  at  Sound  Beach, 
Connecticut,  a  new  and  pretty  cottage  directly  on 
the  Sound.  Our  small  payments  were  to  apply  on 
the  purchase  and  we  hoped  in  this  way  to  once  more 
own  a  home. 


198  The  Struggle  Continued 

Early  in  April  there  was  a  three-days'  sale  at  the 
Knickerbocker  auction  rooms.  I  attended  the  sale 
and  witnessed,  with  aching  heart,  the  slaughter — for 
such  it  proved.  With  the  exception  of  an  exquisite 
set  of  Webb  cut  glass,  manufactured  on  an  original 
design  and  never  duplicated,  and  a  very  small  part 
of  the  rare  china,  the  prices  realized  averaged  but 
little  more  than  ten  per  cent,  of  the  cost.  The  great 
chest  of  Gorham  silver  brought  hardly  its  bullion 
value. 

A  few  pieces  I  could  not  see  so  sacrificed  and 
bought  them  in.  The  fine  hall  clock,  which  had  cost 
me  six  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  I  could  not  let  go 
for  seventy-five.  An  imported  cabinet,  costing  two 
hundred  dollars,  at  eighteen;  a  Tiffany  vase  for 
which  I  had  paid  seventy  dollars,  at  eight,  and  so 
on ;  but  I  had  to  stop  somewhere,  and  so  most  of  the 
things  were  sold.  Within  a  few  days  I  sold  at  pri- 
vate sale  what  I  had  bought  in,  but  realized  only  a 
little  more  than  the  auction  prices. 

Then  came  the  paintings.  These  were  sent  to  a 
down-town  auction  room.  All  but  four,  which  I 
withdrew,  I  saw  sold  at  absurdly  low  prices.  The 
four  and  the  hall  clock,  representing  a  cost  value 
of  twenty-seven  hundred  dollars,  were  taken  by 
Charlie  Wood  in  cancellation  of  a  debt  of  five  hun- 
dred and  seventy-five  dollars  borrowed  money.  He 
certainly  was  well  paid. 

And  now  the  library.  Two  small  cases  had  been 
reserved  from  our  furniture  sale,  and  these  were 
to  be  filled  with — what?    There  was  hardly  a  book 


The  Struggle  Continued  199 

in  the  whole  library  we  did  not  love  and  cherish 
as  a  friend.    How  were  we  to  make  the  selection  ? 

Dickens,  Scott,  Thackeray,  Fielding,  Prescott, 
Irving,  Hawthorne,  the  British  Poets,  Dumas,  Lever, 
Cooper,  Strickland,  Kingsley,  Bulwer — these,  all 
beautiful  sets,  bound  by  Riviere,  Zahnsdorff  and 
other  noted  binders,  must  be  sold  on  account  of  their 
money  value.  Over  and  over  again  we  went  through 
the  catalogue  and  finally  our  task  was  completed. 

As  I  carefully  packed  case  after  case  of  the  books 
destined  for  sale,  it  seemed  almost  like  burying  a 
child  when  I  nailed  the  covers  down. 

The  sale  was  at  Bangs.  The  first  day  I  attended, 
but  had  not  the  courage  to  go  the  second  day.  There 
were  but  few  private  buyers,  and  hundreds  of  the 
volumes  went  back  to  the  shelves  of  the  booksellers 
from  whom  I  had  purchased  them.  They  told  me 
afterwards  they  were  amazed  at  getting  them  so  low. 

In  April  we  took  possession  of  the  cottage  at  Sound 
Beach.  The  house,  though  very  small,  was  comfort- 
able and  cozy,  and  the  lawn  extended  to  the  shore 
of  the  Sound,  at  that  point  rocky  and  picturesque. 

With  freedom  from  care  I  could  have  been  very 
happy  in  the  new  home;  but  with  constant  worry 
over  the  struggle  for  existence,  this  was  impossible. 
Despite  my  best  efforts,  matters  continued  to  go 
wrong,  and  before  the  summer  was  over  I  had 
reached  the  end  of  my  resources. 

Then  commenced  the  bitter  struggle  with  real 
poverty. 


200  The  Struggle  Continued 

It  was  impossible  to  keep  out  of  debt  for  current 
expenses  at  home  and  in  the  office.  For  the  first 
time  in  my  life  I  had  become  ''slow-pay''  to  small 
tradesmen.  "Buy  nothing  you  cannot  pay  for"  is  all 
right  in  theory,  but  let  those  who  preach  it  put  them- 
selves in  my  place  in  those  dark  days.  There  were 
days  and  weeks  when  the  house  would  have  been 
bare  of  food  if  the  grocer  and  butcher  had  refused 
me  credit.  There  were  days  at  the  office  when  letters 
had  to  be  held  over  night  for  lack  of  money  to  pay 
postage. 

My  wife,  unknown  to  me  and  in  the  hope  of  help- 
ing me  over  the  hard  spot,  wrote  to  Mr.  Viedler, 
asking  him  for  a  loan  of  a  few  hundred  dollars. 
He  never  replied  to  her  letter.  Then  she  wrote  to 
Charlie  Wood.  From  him  came  a  reply,  that  if  I 
had  not  read  it,  I  would  never  have  believed  him 
capable  of  writing. 

It  was  the  first  wickedly  cruel  blow  dealt  me  by 
one  whom  I  regarded  as  a  warm  personal  friend,  and 
the  cruelty  was  vastly  accentuated  by  dealing  it 
through  my  wife. 

In  his  letter  he  gave  as  a  reason  for  not  making 
the  loan  that  I  had  caused  him  to  lose  fifty  thousand 
dollars — that  as  a  result  he  had  been  compelled  to 
pay  for  his  home,  recently  completed,  and  one  of 
the  handsomest  in  Orange,  New  Jersey,  in  part  by 
mortgage;  further,  in  writing,  he  went  out  of  his 
way  to  express  himself,  with  an  ability  for  which 
he  is  noted,  in  most  unkind  and  bitter  terms. 

Here  are  the  facts : 


The  Struggle  Continued  201 

At  our  first  interview  after  my  failure  I  said, 
"Charlie,  I  am  sorry  for  your  loss."  To  which  he 
replied,  "Walter,  you  do  not  owe  me  a  cent."  He 
had  invested  with  us  fifty-four  thousand  dollars,  but 
he  had  drawn  in  profits  thirty-two  thousand,  so  that 
his  actual  loss  was  but  twenty-two  thousand  dollars. 

In  1890,  only  two  weeks  after  he  had  declined  to 
share  with  me  that  small  investment  in  the  Connecti- 
cut concern  to  benefit  the  estate  of  his  deceased  part- 
ner, because  he  "could  not  go  into  any  outside  invest- 
ment," he  came  to  my  office  and  asked  me  to  take 
eighteen  thousand  dollars,  to  be — and  was — later  in- 
creased, for  operations  in  our  market.  I  took  it,  not 
that  I  wanted  it,  but  for  the  reason  that  he  was  a 
friend  who  asked  me  to  help  him,  and  as  was  the 
case  with  every  such  investment,  except  Caine's,  it 
was  distinctly  understood  that  the  risk  of  loss 
was  the  investor's. 

When  I  negotiated  the  sale  of  this  man's  interest 
in  those  properties  to  Mallison  I  secured  him  at  least 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars  more  than  he  expected 
or  could  have  gotten  himself,  and  it  was  on  that 
occasion  his  wife  exclaimed,  "Oh,  Walter,  what  a 
friend  you  have  been!"  He  also  was  one  of  those 
investors  whom  I  relieved  from  being  held  as  an  un- 
disclosed partner  at  the  time  of  my  failure — and  this 
man  was  my  friend! 

To  the  letter  he  had  written  my  wife  I  replied, 
resenting  indignantly  the  falsity  and  injustice  of  his 
charges  and  offering  the  vouchers  to  prove  my  state- 


202  The  Struggle  Continued 

ments.  His  answer  was  conciliatory,  and  admitted 
that  "the  facts  were  really  much  better"  than  he 
supposed. 

In  those  days  I  thought  often  of  the  many  I  had 
assisted  in  the  past  and  wondered  if  the  "bread  cast 
upon  the  waters  would  return  to  me  after  many 
days/'  Of  course  I  did  occasionally  find  a  friend 
who  helped  a  little,  but  these  were  few  and  far 
between. 

There  was  one  man  to  whom  I  had  once  loaned 
three  hundred  dollars.  He  asked  for  the  loan,  to 
be  returned  in  two  weeks.  I  never  asked  for  the 
money  and  it  was  not  until  more  than  two  years  had 
passed  that  he  returned  it.  I  wrote  him  in  1897 
asking  a  loan  of  one  hundred  dollars  for  a  few  weeks. 
In  reply  he  wrote  :  "You  will  be  surprised  at  my  not 
granting  you  this  small  favor,  but  I  have  lost  so 
much  money  through  loans  to  friends  that  I  make  no 
more  personal  loans." 

Throughout  the  year  there  was  no  improvement  in 
my  affairs.  I  managed  to  keep  the  debts  for  current 
expenses  down  to  small  figures,  altogether  not  more 
than  a  few  hundred  dollars,  but  I  was  always  a 
month  or  two  behind,  both  in  the  office  and  at  home. 

We  welcomed  the  end  of  the  year,  for  we  felt  that 
any  change  must  be  for  the  better.  I  could  not  see 
howr  it  could  be  much  worse. 


CHAPTER.  XLI 

DARKNESS    BEFORE   THE   DAWN 

The  winter  dragged  slowly  along  while  we  led  a 
hand-to-mouth  existence.  Even  those  dreary  times 
did  not  drive  the  sunshine  from  my  home.  Love 
reigned  supreme  in  the  family  circle  and  my  wife 
and  children  continually  petted  and  caressed  me, 
made  light  of  our  troubles,  and  stoutly  affirmed  that 
brighter  days  would  surely  come. 

Fortunately  all  kept  well,  and  while  they  must 
have  felt  the  awful  strain  of  our  impoverished  condi- 
tion, they  concealed  from  me  such  feelings,  if  they 
existed.  My  wife's  wonderful  health  has,  through 
all  our  troubles,  been  maintained.  She  is  the  only 
woman  I  ever  knew  who  never  had  a  headache  and 
in  all  our  married  life  she  has  never  been  ill. 

We  were  to  leave  Sound  Beach  in  the  spring.  I 
could  not  carry  out  my  arrangement  with  the  owner 
of  the  property  and  he  released  me.  Where  should 
we  go  next  to  seek  an  abiding  place?  And  in  my 
mind  was  the  thought,  how  long  will  we  be  able  to 
remain  there  when  we  find  it  ? 

My  thoughts  reverted  to  those  days  of  1876  on 
the  little  farm.  "Let  us  try  farming  again,"  said  I, 
and  try  it  we  did. 


204  Darkness  Before  the  Dawn 

At  Ramsey,  New  jersey,  I  found  a  modernized, 
comfortable  house  with  fifteen  acres  of  land.  There 
was  an  asparagus  bed,  plenty  of  strawberries,  and 
some  other  fruit.  This  place  I  rented  for  a  year 
at  four  hundred  dollars  and  removed  there  on  the 
thirtieth  of  April. 

I  employed  a  man  with  horses  and  plow  by  the  day 
and  soon  had  my  crops  planted.  About  half  the  land 
was  rich  in  grass  and  I  left  this  for  a  hay  crop.  As 
in  the  old  days,  so  now  I  was  successful  in  my  farm- 
ing experiment.  Our  crops,  considering  the  acreage, 
were  enormous  and  again  I  astonished  the  natives. 
I  found  a  ready  market  with  the  vegetable  peddlers 
and  the  profits  went  a  long  way  toward  paying  the 
rent. 

At  the  office  matters  were  unchanged.  I  was 
doing  neither  better  nor  wrorse  than  for  many  months 
previous.  The  summer  had  passed  and  with  the 
early  fall  I  foresaw  a  change  in  market  conditions 
that  I  longed  to  take  advantage  of,  but  I  had  no 
capital,  nor  could  I  think  of  any  one  who  would  assist 
me — yes,  I  did  think  of  one  friend  who  through  all 
my  trials  had  been  staunch  and  true,  but  I  could  not 
bring  myself  to  the  point  of  calling  on  that  friend  for 
financial  aid. 

It  was  Mrs.  Slater.  Her  father,  Mr.  Pell,  had 
been  dead  for  some  months  and  had  been  deprived 
of  no  comfort  through  his  loss  by  my  failure. 

When  my  payments  ceased  in  1897  Mrs.  Slater 
had  been  compelled  to  reduce  her  expenses  and  with 
her  boy  was  now  living  in  an  apartment  in  New 


Darkness  Before  the  Dawn  205 

York.  Her  income  was  still  sufficient  to  enable  her 
to  live  very  nicely,  and  though  her  loss  had  made  it 
necessary  to  be  careful  in  her  expenditures  this  had 
not  in  any  way  affected  her  friendship  for  the  man 
who  was  the  cause.  On  the  contrary,  she  always 
stood  up  for  me  when  my  affairs  were  discussed  by 
others  in  her  presence,  and  when  occasionally  I  called 
on  her  she  always  expressed  a  sympathetic  friendly 
interest  in  my  trials  without  adding  to  my  unhappi- 
ness  by  referring  to  my  indebtedness  to  her. 

As  the  days  went  by  developments  proved  that  my 
judgment  of  the  market  was  correct.  An  opportunity 
to  make  money  was  at  hand  and  if  I  was  to  take 
advantage  of  it  I  must  get  some  capital  quickly.  I 
felt  certain  with  a  little  capital  I  could  do  a  profitable 
business  that  would  not  only  relieve  me  from  the 
terrible  distress  I  had  been  under  for  so  long,  but 
would  enable  me  to  commence  again,  at  least  in  part, 
my  payments  to  Mrs.  Slater. 

After  careful  consideration,  I  put  the  matter  before 
her  in  a  letter  and  then  called  to  talk  it  over.  She 
had  a  strong  desire  to  help  me  and  of  course  would 
be  glad  to  see  her  income  increased,  and  she  very 
willingly  let  me  have  five  thousand  dollars. 

Success  came  from  the  start.  Of  course  with  this 
small  capital  there  was  no  fortune  to  be  made,  but 
that  was  not  what  I  was  looking  for  at  that  time. 
The  bitter  experience  I  had  been  through  had  put  a 
limit  to  my  ambition.  The  acme  of  my  desires  then 
was  a  comfortable  living  for  my  family  and  the 
ability  to  send  to  Mrs.   Slater  her  interest  cheque 


206  Darkness  Before  the  Dawn 

promptly  each  month.  This  I  was  now  in  a  fair  way 
to  accomplish  and  my  spirits  and  courage  rose 
rapidly. 

We  had  a  very  happy  Christmas  that  year.  The 
accounts  with  the  butcher  and  grocer  had  been 
paid  up,  and  our  gifts,  consisting  of  much-needed 
additions  to  the  family  wardrobe,  gave  us,  I  believe, 
more  pleasure  than  in  the  old  days  of  prosperity 
when  the  gifts  represented  large  intrinsic  value. 
Everything  now  was  viewed  in  contrast  with  the 
days  of  poverty  which  we  hoped  had  departed  never 
to  return. 


CHAPTER  XLII 

BRIGHTER   DAYS 

Opening  with  a  promise  of  better  times,  which  was 
fulfilled  to  a  marked  degree,  the  year  1899  witnessed 
a  great  change  in  my  affairs.  Again  I  was  making 
money,  not  in  such  amounts  as  during  many  years 
prior  to  my  failure,  but  there  was  a  steady  and  sub- 
stantial gain  each  month. 

With  but  two  employees,  a  stenographer  and  type- 
writer, and  an  office-boy,  I  was  kept  very  busy  at  the 
office.  My  hours  were  long,  and  with  nearly  four 
hours  each  day  passed  in  the  trip  to  and  from  the 
office,  we  decided  it  would  be  better  to  seek  an  inex- 
pensive home  in  New  York. 

The  thought  of  what  our  housekeeping  had  been 
for  the  past  three  years,  moving  each  year,  no  maids 
and  with  scanty  means,  led  us  to  believe  that  board- 
ing would  be  an  agreeable  change  for  all,  and  so  we 
stored  our  furniture  and  in  the  early  spring  secured 
pleasant  accommodations  at  a  very  reasonable  price, 
in  an  apartment  hotel,  the  St.  Lorenz,  on  East 
Seventy-second  Street. 

With  our  return  to  the  city  we  renewed  our  former 
intimacy  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Curtice,  George  Todd 
and  his  wife,  and  a  few  other  friends,  though  we  did 


208  Brighter  Days 

not  see  as  much  of  them  as  in  the  old  days.  They 
had  a  large  circle  of  friends  and  led  an  active  social 
life,  while  we  were  living  very  quietly,  doing  practi- 
cally no  entertaining.  There  were  a  number  of 
pleasant  little  dinners,  my  wife  and  I  occasionally 
attended  the  theatre,  and  we  were  very  happy  in  our 
improved  circumstances. 

The  business  outlook  encouraged  me  greatly. 
Mrs.  Slater  had  increased  my  capital  with  another 
five  thousand  dollars,  I  was  getting  back  many  of 
the  old  customers  I  had  lost  after  the  failure,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  a  return  to  prosperity,  which  would  be 
lasting,  was  assured. 

In  June  we  went  to  Nyack-on-the-Hudson  for  the 
summer  and  in  October  returned  to  our  apartment 
in  New  York.  The  pleasure  of  our  residence  there 
was  contributed  to  by  the  society  of  Mrs.  Slater. 
Her  boy  had  been  sent  to  boarding-school  and  she 
took  an  apartment  at  the  St.  Lorenz. 

We  had  an  experience  that  winter  which  will  never 
be  effaced  from  my  memory. 

One  evening  I  took  my  wife  and  Mrs.  Slater  to 
the  Casino  to  witness  a  performance  of  the  "Belle 
of  New  York."  Our  seats  were  in  the  center  of  the 
orchestra,  third  row  from  the  stage.  The  house  was 
crowded,  with  many  people  standing. 

The  first  act  was  over,  when  there  came  to  me 
suddenly  a  feeling  of  great  uneasiness.  I  knew  not 
how  to  account  for  it.  The  performance  interested 
me,  we  were  conversing  pleasantly,  there  was  noth- 
ing I  could  see  or  think  of  to  explain  the  feeling, 
and  yet  it  existed. 


Brighter  Days  209 

The  curtain  rose  on  the  second  act.  I  was  no 
longer  interested  and  could  not  keep  my  attention 
on  the  stage.  My  eyes  continually  wandered  over 
the  house,  and  after  what  seemed  an  endless  time 
the  act  was  over.  I  then  thought  I  would  mention 
my  feeling  to  my  wife  and  suggest  leaving  the 
theatre.  This  was  unreasonable.  The  ladies  were 
enjoying  the  performance  and  I  disliked  exceedingly 
to  spoil  their  evening  with  what  appeared  to  be 
nervousness  on  my  part. 

Again  the  curtain  rose.  I  found  myself  irritated 
by  the  performers,  every  word  and  action  dragged 
so  slowly  in  the  mood  I  was  in.  I  looked  at  the 
people  between  us  and  the  aisle  and  it  was  only  by 
strong  exertion  of  will  that  I  was  able  to  keep  my 
seat.  Again  I  looked  around  the  house.  Everything 
was  perfectly  quiet. 

Five  minutes  later  the  folds  of  the  curtain,  one 
of  those  that  open  in  the  center  and  are  drawn  up 
high  on  each  side,  on  the  right  of  the  stage,  were  a 
mass  of  flame ;  the  curtain  was  lowered  and  instantly 
the  other  side  also  was  on  fire. 

The  panic  was  on.  Amidst  cries  of  fire  and 
shrieks  of  women  came  the  rush  for  the  exits. 
Instantly  the  aisles  were  choked  with  a  frantic, 
struggling  crowd.  A  man  sitting  in  front  of  my 
wife  stepped  on  the  back  of  her  seat  and  narrowly 
escaped  kicking  her  in  the  face  with  his  other  foot 
in  a  useless  rush.     He  did  not  get  ten  feet  away. 

At  the  instant  the  flame  appeared  Mrs.  Slater  said 
in  a  quiet  voice,  "Do  you  see  that,  Walter?"    "Yes," 


210  Brighter  Days 

I  replied.  "What  shall  we  do?"  she  said;  and  I 
answered,  "Sit  still."  My  wife,  always  brave,  was 
urging  the  women  around  her  to  sit  still  and  keep 
quiet.  There  was  nothing  else  to  do.  Either  that 
fire  would  be  extinguished  or  we  were  doomed. 
There  was  no  possibility  of  escape  through  the  mass 
of  people  behind  us  and  I  realized  that  fact  instantly. 

Fortunately  the  people  on  the  stage  kept  their 
presence  of  mind,  the  firemen  had  the  hose  at  work 
quickly,  and  we  escaped  with  a  slight  sprinkling 
from  the  spray. 

Was  there  ever  a  clearer  warning  given  by 
intuition  ? 

The  year  ended  bright  with  promise  of  continued 
prosperity.  We  had  enjoyed  the  comfort  of  living 
amid  pleasant  surroundings  and  I  had  saved  nearly 
three  thousand  dollars.  I  looked  forward  to  com- 
mencing again  payments  of  interest  on  my  moral 
obligations  and  some  liquidation  of  my  debt  to  Mrs. 
Slater,  but  I  wanted,  if  possible,  to  first  get  a  larger 
capital,  that  I  might  make  these  payments  without 
impairing  my  facilities  for  doing  business. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

SMOOTH   SAILING  INTO  ROUGH   WATERS 

The  year  1900  was  very  closely  a  repetition  of 
1899.  In  May  we  again  went  to  Nyack  for  the 
summer,  and  in  the  fall,  instead  of  returning  to  the 
St.  Lorenz,  rented  an  apartment  on  Park  Avenue, 
and  taking  our  furniture  out  of  storage  resumed 
house-keeping.  It  was  somewhat  less  expensive  and 
we  had  tired  of  hotel  fare. 

Business  was  fairly  good  on  the  average,  though 
there  were  dull  periods  which  made  me  restless. 
There  was  so  much  to  be  done  I  was  eager  to  make 
money  faster. 

In  July  the  balance  of  the  amount  due  to  Mrs. 
Slater  under  the  contract  with  Mallison,  which  had 
expired,  was  paid  over  to  me,  and  pending  some 
permanent  investment  I  loaned  it  out  on  call. 

Through  the  formation  of  trusts  the  trade  had 
entirely  changed  in  its  character.  Many  of  our  best 
customers  had  been  absorbed  by  one  gigantic  com- 
bination, and  the  supplies  of  the  commodity  we  dealt 
in,  required  by  these  consumers,  were  now  furnished 
under  a  contract  made  with  the  leading  firm  in  the 


212         Smooth  Sailing  Into  Rough  Waters 

trade,  this  firm  having  been  one  of  the  underwriters 
in  the  flotation  of  the  securities  and  also  was  repre- 
sented in  the  board  of  directors. 

This  one  consolidation  took  out  of  the  open 
market  a  demand  equivalent  to  fully  one-third  of 
the  entire  consumption  of  the  United  States.  Then 
there  was  another  trust,  a  comparatively  small  affair, 
but  this  too  absorbed  a  number  of  our  customers. 
A  third  trust  was  in  course  of  organization,  and 
when  completed  would,  with  the  others,  leave  for 
open  competition  less  than  half  of  the  country's 
requirements. 

Backed  by  a  very  wealthy  concern  we  tried  to  get 
a  chance  to  compete  for  the  contract  with  the  leading 
trust,  but  it  was  quite  useless.  We  were  told  the 
business  could  not  be  given  to  us,  no  matter  how 
advantageous  our  terms  might  be,  and  our  inference 
was  that  the  object  of  the  trust  was  not  to  get  the 
material  at  the  lowest  price,  but  to  give  the  business 
to  a  favored  firm  without  competition. 

This  large  contract  naturally  excited  much  interest 
in  the  trade  and  great  efforts  were  made  to  ascertain 
its  terms.  The  generally  accepted  theory  was  that 
the  firm  supplied  the  material  as  wanted  and  the 
price  for  each  month's  deliveries  was  fixed  by  the 
average  of  the  market  for  the  last  ten  days  of  the 
month.  As  if  bearing  this  out  it  was  noted  that 
during  the  last  ten  days  of  each  month,  the  firm 
holding  the  contract  did  its  utmost  to  manipulate  a 
rise  in  price,  which  would,  of  course,  inure  greatly 
to  its  benefit. 


Smooth  Sailing  Into  Rough  Waters        213 

These  changes  taking  from  us  the  legitimate 
demand  from  so  many  consumers,  made  our  business 
far  more  speculative.  Instead  of  buying  to  supply 
a  regular  trade,  our  purchases  were  made  largely  to 
be  resold  in  wholesale  lots  to  dealers  or  others,  and 
the  profit  would  depend  on  an  advance  in  the  market 
following  the  purchase.  If  the  market  favored  us 
the  business  was  profitable;  if  not,  then  losses  must 
be  met. 

At  this  time  we  were  doing  considerable  business 
on  joint  account  with  George  Norman,  our  former 
clerk.  In  many  of  the  purchases  and  sales  we  made 
he  had  half  interest  and  in  the  same  way  we  were 
interested  in  many  of  his  operations.  This  business 
for  many  months  proved  profitable.  Aside  from 
these  transactions  we  both  were  doing  a  good  deal 
of  business  on  individual  account,  we  far  more  than 
was  prudent  considering  our  capital,  though  at  that 
time,  in  my  anxiety  to  make  money,  I  did  not  realize 
it. 

There  came  a  time  when,  on  a  small  scale,  I 
repeated  my  error  of  1895.  The  first  time  it  was 
my  misfortune,  the  second  my  fault. 

For  this  fatal  mistake  I  have  no  defense.  I  should 
have  known  better — but  in  explanation  there  is 
something  to  say,  and  while  it  is  not  a  defense,  it  is 
in  a  measure  some  palliation. 

There  had  been  a  period  of  inactivity  with  no 
opportunity  to  make  money.  My  mind  was  depressed 
over  the  loss  of  legitimate  trade  through  the  trusts 


214         Smooth  Sailing  Into  Rough  Waters 

and  I  was  harassed  by  appeals  from  some  of  my 
moral  creditors  for  help.  I  felt  more  than  ever 
before  the  weight  of  my  awful  burden. 

In  a  recent  interview  with  Mrs.  Slater,  in  which 
her  affairs  had  been  discussed,  I  had  stated  to  her 
my  hopes  of  accomplishing  certain  things.  A 
remark  she  made  in  reply  seemed  to  have  burned 
into  my  brain.  Her  words  were,  'To  do  that  you 
must  make  money  and  lots  of  it."  That  was  in 
clear-cut  words  the  task  before  me.  I  "must  make 
money  and  lots  of  it."  It  drove  from  my  mind 
thoughts  of  prudence  and  safety.  I  took  no  account 
of  the  risk  of  my  business.  I  thought  only  of  the 
possible  profits. 

Perhaps  I  wTas  mad,  mentally  irresponsible.  It 
certainly  seems  so  to  me  now.  Possibly  I  had  the 
fever  of  a  gambler  playing  for  high  stakes.  At  all 
events,  I  plunged  to  the  limit — and  the  market  went 
against  me.  I  tried  to  extricate  myself,  but  too  late. 
It  was  impossible.  All  the  capital  at  my  command 
was  lost,  and  in  addition  there  was  nearly  twelve 
thousand  dollars  indebtedness  on  our  contracts  in 
which  George  Norman  had  half  interest.  The 
horror  that  came  over  me  as  I  realized  my  awful 
position  I  can  compare  only  to  Dante's  "Inferno." 
What  should  I  do?  What  could  I  do?  I  wonder 
I  did  not  go  insane. 

Norman  came  to  my  office  and  tried  to  encourage 
me.  The  contracts  standing  in  his  name  had  all 
been  settled  and  he  had  money  left.  When  he  left 
it  had  been  agreed  that  I  was  to  arrange  for  time 


Smooth  Sailing  Into  Rough  Waters         215 

for  payment  of  the  differences  on  our  joint-account 
contracts,  and  as  opportunity  offered  he  was  with 
his  capital  to  do  a  joint-account  business  with  me  by 
which  we  hoped  to  make  money  enough  to  pay  these 
differences  and  recoup  my  losses.  Meanwhile  he 
was  to  let  me  have  from  month  to  month  what 
money  I  would  require,  above  what  I  could  make 
myself,  to  meet  my  expenses  and  the  payments  to 
Mrs.  Slater. 

This  arrangement  gave  me  a  breathing  spell.  I 
managed  to  pull  myself  together  and  go  home  after 
the  terrible  day  in  a  state  of  comparative  calmness. 
I  could  not  tell  my  wife  of  this  new  trouble  and  I 
could  not  tell  Mrs.  Slater.  If  my  expenses  and  Mrs. 
Slater's  payments  were  provided  for  why  worry 
either  of  them  ?  In  a  few  months,  I  reasoned,  things 
will  come  my  way  again  and  I  will  get  out  of  this 
awful  pit.  Meanwhile,  I  could  eat  my  heart  out  in 
useless  regret  when  alone,  but  must  conceal  from  all 
the  world  my  trouble. 

I  hope  no  reader  of  these  pages  will  ever  know 
the  torture  of  mind  I  suffered.  It  was  infinitely 
worse  than  any  possible  torture  of  body  in  the  days 
of  the  Spanish  Inquisition.  I  once  listened  to  a 
sermon  on  "Hell,"  delivered  by  the  late  Rev.  T. 
DeWitt  Talmage.  His  word  picture  of  a  place  of 
torment  was  so  vivid  one  could  almost  inhale  the 
odor  of  the  burning  sulphur  and  yet  the  place  he 
painted  was  a  paradise  compared  to  the  hell  on  earth 
that  was  my  portion. 


216         Smooth  Sailing  Into  Rough  Waters 

For  a  few  months  Norman  was  as  good  as  his 
word.  He  made  up  the  deficiency  in  my  earnings 
and  continually  encouraged  me  with  what  he  would 
do  when  market  conditions  warranted  operations. 
Then  he  commenced  slowly  to  withdraw  his  assist- 
ance by  responding  to  my  requests  for  money  only 
in  part,  on  the  plea  that  he  was  himself  hard  pressed. 
I  had  good  reasons  for  knowing  that  such  was  not 
the  case. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

THE  TYRANNY  OF  THE  JURY  LAW 

Of  course  my  wife  knew  I  was  having  hard  times, 
but  she  had  no  idea  of  my  terrible  situation.  At 
the  end  of  July,  1901,  in  order  to  reduce  our 
expenses  we  moved  to  Plainfield,  New  Jersey,  taking 
a  small  cottage  at  a  very  low  rental. 

Another  reason  for  leaving  New  York  was  that  I 
might  escape  from  jury  duty. 

This  had  become  a  nightmare,  and  to  a  man 
situated  as  I  was  it  seems  to  me  the  jury  law  is 
tyrannical  and  unjust.  My  business  required  my 
constant  personal  attention.  There  was  no  one  to 
take  my  place.  A  day's  absence  meant  not  only  loss 
of  money  that  might  be  made  that  day,  but  possible 
loss  of  customers  through  inattention  to  their  orders 
and  inquiries.  I  needed  every  dollar  I  could  make. 
The  hardship  to  those  dependent  on  me  for  support 
if  I  were  taken  from  my  business  to  serve  on  a  jury 
would  be  actual — I  simply  could  not  do  it. 

During  the  previous  winter  I  had  been  summoned 
four  times,  on  each  occasion  before  a  different  judge. 
The  first  time  I  called  on  the  judge  in  his  private 
room  before  the  opening  of  the  court,  and  was 
excused.     The  next  month  I  was  again  summoned. 


218  The  Tyranny  of  the  Jury  Law 

This  time  also  the  judge  excused  me,  but  it  required 
much  argument  to  induce  him  to  do  so.  The  third 
time  it  was  even  more  difficult  to  escape,  though  I 
succeeded  again.  The  fourth  time  was  a  rather 
novel  experience.  I  shall  not  forget  it,  and  if  that 
judge  reads  these  pages  he  will  remember  it.  I  gave 
him  a  fright  that  startled  him  out  of  his  dignified 
composure. 

When  ushered  into  his  room  I  found  the  judge 
seated  at  his  desk,  there  being  three  or  four  other 
men  present.  They  stepped  back  as  I  approached 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  judge. 

In  a  low  voice  I  explained  why  I  wished  to  be 
excused.  It  was  humiliating  to  have  to  tell  my 
story  before  others  and  I  endeavored  to  speak  so 
low  they  would  not  hear  me. 

This  judge  was  of  a  different  type.  The  others 
had  been  most  kind  in  manner,  even  expressing 
sympathy  for  my  unfortunate  position ;  but  this  man 
was  brusque  and  unpleasant.  When  I  ceased  speak- 
ing he  turned  around  in  his  chair  and  in  a  loud  voice 
said : 

"Oh,  no,  I  cannot  excuse  you  for  any  such  reason." 
I  replied,  "Your  Honor,  what  better  reason  could  I 
have  than  those  given  you  ?"  To  which  he  answered, 
"Don't  come  to  me  and  ask  me  to  give  you  reasons 
for  excuse  from  jury  duty.  You  must  serve;  we 
want  men  that  cannot  get  away  from  their  business." 
Then  he  turned  his  back  on  me. 

For  a  brief  moment  I  stood  there  silent.  The 
judge  commenced  writing  at  his  desk.     The  other 


The  Tyranny  of  the  Jury  Law  219 

men  were  watching  me.  I  thought  of  what  it  meant 
in  the  critical  condition  of  my  affairs  to  take  me 
from  my  office  for  two  weeks  and  the  thought  made 
me  desperate. 

Springing  forward,  I  seized  the  judge  by  the  arm, 
and  while  his  whole  body  shook  with  the  nervous 
trembling  of  my  grasp,  I  shouted  at  him  :  "Do  you 
know  what  you  are  doing?  Would  you  put  a  man 
who  is  almost  at  the  point  of  nervous  prostration  or 
perhaps  worse  in  a  jury  box?  Do  you  think  I  am 
in  any  condition  to  do  jury  duty?"  The  other  men 
gathered  around  and  endeavored  to  calm  me.  The 
judge,  who  had  risen  from  his  chair,  dropped  into 
it  again  with  a  frightened  look,  and  with  a  voice 
scarcely  audible,  said,  "Your  mental  condition  will 
excuse  you,"  and  then  asked  one  of  the  men  to  assist 
me  out  of  the  office.  And  I  needed  his  assistance. 
I  was  so  weak  I  could  hardly  stand.  I  wondered 
afterwards  the  judge  did  not  commit  me  for  exami- 
nation as  to  my  sanity. 

In  the  name  of  justice,  why  should  a  man  be 
placed  in  such  a  position?  Why  compelled  to 
humiliate  himself  by  laying  bare  to  any  man,  judge 
though  he  be,  his  poverty  and  then  have  to  argue 
on  that  point  as  an  excuse  for  not  doing  jury  duty? 
If  a  man  is  prepared  to  prove  that  it  would  be  a 
serious  injury  to  himself  to  serve,  he  ought  to  be 
excused.  How  could  a  man  do  justice  in  a  trial 
before  him,  when  his  mind  is  racked  with  worry 
over  his  own  affairs  ?  It  is  unfair  to  all — plaintiff, 
defendant,  and  juryman  alike. 


CHAPTER  XLV 

BITTER    TRIALS 

With  the  removal  to  Plainfield  came  the  com- 
mencement of  a  period  of  bitter  trial  and  almost 
unremitting  struggle  for  existence. 

Norman,  though  he  occasionally  assisted  me  with 
small  amounts,  never  redeemed  his  promise  to  do 
the  joint-account  business  which  was  to  pay  those 
debts,  as  much  his  as  mine,  and  recoup  my  losses. 
Meanwhile,  he  was  doing  well  and  reported  to  be 
making  money  fast. 

The  months  passed  by,  and  though  I  managed  to 
make  the  payments  to  Mrs.  Slater  I  was  running 
behind  on  my  bills  at  the  office  and  at  home.  Some- 
thing must  be  done.  I  tried  in  every  way  to  get 
Norman  to  pay  me  part  of  the  considerable  sum 
which  stood  against  him  on  my  books — he  was 
heartless.  He  knew  I  would  not  sue  him  and  if  I 
did  he  could  keep  the  matter  hanging  in  the  courts 
for  years.  Then  I  resolved  to  get  some  money  out 
of  him  in  another  way. 

He  was  accustomed  to  make  certain  deliveries 
through  our  office,  the  payments  being  made  to  us. 
In  the  next  settlement  I  made  with  him  I  deducted 


Bitter  Trials  221 

a  few  hundred  dollars,  sufficient  to  pay  my  most 
pressing  bills,  and  gave  him  credit  for  the  amount. 

I  felt  I  had  a  perfect  legal  and  moral  right  to  keep 
this  money;  but  a  few  days  later  thought  perhaps, 
as  a  matter  of  policy,  I  had  made  a  mistake,  as  he 
could  throw  more  or  less  business  my  way  which  I 
might  lose  if  he  resented  my  action.  I  then  wrote 
him  expressing  my  regret  for  the  necessity  of  the 
step.  At  first  he  took  it  very  nicely,  told  me  not  to 
speak  of  it,  and  that  it  was  all  right;  but  later  he 
did  his  utmost  to  divert  business  from  me  and  then 
my  only  regret  was  that  I  had  not  kept  the  whole 
amount. 

From  an  office-boy  at  four  dollars  per  week  I  had 
brought  him  up  in  my  business,  launched  him  out 
as  a  broker,  supported  him  liberally  and  made  him 
successful.  All  he  ever  had  in  the  world  he  owed 
either  directly  or  indirectly  to  me.  He  wronged  me 
in  the  old  days  before  the  failure  in  1895,  again  in 
this  later  failure,  and  now  added  insult  to  injury  in 
his  base  ingratitude. 

In  these  days  of  trial  I  was  often  severely  pressed 
for  ready  money  in  small  amounts  for  current 
expenses.  My  old  friend  Will  Curtice  had  responded 
to  my  occasional  requests  for  loans,  which  had  been 
invariably  returned,  though  not  always  with  prompt- 
ness. The  time  came  when  he  declined,  saying  he 
could  not  do  it,  which  meant  he  would  not,  for  he 
was  becoming  a  rich  man.  At  a  later  period,  and 
when  my  credit  with  butcher  and  grocer  had  reached 
the  limit,  I  wrote  to  him  for  fifty  dollars.     I  told 


222  Bitter  Trials 

him  it  was  for  bread  and  butter  for  my  family  and 
that  whether  he  made  the  loan  or  not  I  should  never 
again  appeal  to  him.  He  returned  my  letter,  first 
writing  across  it,  "It  is  quite  impossible."  A  few 
days  later  I  met  him  in  the  street.  He  saw  me 
coming  and  deliberately  cut  me. 

Another  friend  gone.  One  of  the  old  "Immortal 
Ten" — the  man  who  had  composed  that  song  con- 
taining the  lines : 

"And  Stowe  has  been  so  generous  since, 
That  all  the  crowd  have  dubbed  him  Prince." 

At  one  of  our  old  dinner-parties  I  heard  Curtice 
say,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  "Friends  are  of 
no  use  except  for  what  you  can  get  out  of  them." 
He  laughed  when  he  said  it  and  I  supposed  it  was  a 
thoughtless  joke — perhaps  he  meant  it  seriously.  *jC 


CHAPTER  XLVI 

AT   THE  BRINK  OF   THE  GRAVE 

I 

It  is  the  afternoon  of  January  4,  1903.  I  am 
going  from  my  office,  home  to  that  devoted  woman 
who  has  in  all  my  bitter  trials  stood  by  me  brave  as 
a  lion,  always  the  same  loving,  cheerful,  true  wife — 
the  mother  of  my  children,  those  dear  ones  who  have 
done  their  best  to  aid  in  her  heroic  efforts  to  sustain 
my  courage  and  comfort  me  in  my  awful  distress  of 
mind. 

On  my  way  to  the  train  I  stop  at  a  drug  store. 
To  the  clerk  I  say,  "A  bottle  of  morphine  pills."  He 
looks  at  me  an  instant  and  says,  "For  neuralgia, 
perhaps?"  I  reply,  "Yes."  He  hands  me  a  book. 
I  register  a  fictitious  name  and  address,  take  the 
bottle  and  leave  the  store.  How  easy  it  is  to  get 
possession  of  this  deadly  drug  which  brings  rest  in 
a  sleep  that  knows  no  end. 

How  can  I  go  into  that  home  and  greet  my  loved 
ones  with  this  awful  thought  in  my  mind?  What 
am  I  about  to  do  ?  Am  I  going  to  plunge  that  poor 
family  into  the  lowest  depths  of  grief  and  shame? 
God,  forgive  me !  I  do  not  think  of  that  phase. 
And  why  do  I  not  think  of  it  ? 


224  At  the  Brink  of  the  Grave 

The  brain  is  weary  to  the  straining  point.  Noth- 
ing but  abject  poverty,  cruel,  gaunt  want  stares  me 
in  the  face.  Can  I  see  my  loved  ones  hungry  with- 
out a  roof  to  shelter  them?  I  am  penniless.  The 
tradesmen  will  give  no  further  credit.  The  landlord 
wants  his  rent  and  I  have  not  a  friend  in  the  world 
that  I  can  think  of  to  help  me.  I  have  humiliated 
myself  in  the  dust  in  my  efforts  to  borrow  a  little 
money.  I  have  asked  it  as  a  loan  or  charity,  if  they 
chose  to  regard  it  as  the  same  thing,  from  men  of 
wealth  who  have  known  me  intimately  for  many 
years,  but  all  in  vain. 

And  so  I  am  going  to  destroy  myself  that  my 
family  may  get  immediate  relief  through  the  paltry 
few  thousand  dollars  of  life  insurance,  all  that 
remains  of  the  nearly  two  hundred  thousand  dollars 
I  carried  in  my  prosperous  days. 

I  have  thought  of  what  will  be  the  probable  course 
of  events  after  my  death.  Probably  my  wife,  per- 
haps with  Mrs.  Slater,  will  buy  a  small  farm  and 
raise  chickens  or  something  of  that  sort,  out  of 
which  all  can  get  a  living  until  the  boys  can  help  to 
something  better — anyway,  they  will  be  better  off 
without  me. 

Fallacious  reasoning  to  ease  the  mind  for  a 
coward's  act,  say  you?  Perhaps — but  I  could  not 
see  it  so  at  that  time.  All  that  I  could  grasp  in  my 
mental  state  was  the  fact  that  I  had  no  money  and 
knew  not  where  to  get  any.  Money  must  be  found 
for  my  family  to  exist  and  my  death  would  bring 
it — consequently  I  must  die. 


At  the  Brink  of  the  Grave  225 

On  the  ferryboat  I  stood  on  the  rear  deck  and 
looked  back  at  the  lights  of  the  great  city.  It  was, 
so  I  believed,  my  last  farewell  to  the  scene  of  my 
busy  life.     I  was  strangely  calm. 

On  the  train  I  read  the  evening  paper  as  usual  and 
after  arriving  at  my  station  walked  home.  The 
fond  greeting  from  all,  never  omitted,  seemed  that 
evening  especially  tender.  There  was  no  poverty  of 
love,  whatever  the  material  conditions  might  be. 
Our  simple  dinner  over,  the  evening  was  passed  as 
usual  and  we  retired. 

The  details  of  the  awful  horror  which  followed 
would  inflict  too  much  pain  on  me  to  write  and  give 
my  readers  no  pleasure  to  read.  For  many  hours 
the  physicians  labored  at  their  almost  hopeless  task 
and  finally  dragged  me  back  from  the  brink  of  the 
grave. 

Before  leaving  my  office  I  had  mailed  a  letter  to 
a  friend  in  the  trade  requesting  him  to  take  charge 
of  my  business  matters  the  following  morning.  He 
did  so,  and  in  the  evening  came  to  my  home,  having 
kept  himself  informed  during  the  day,  by  telephone, 
of  my  condition.  He  told  me  he  had  come  to  help, 
and  before  anything  else  wanted  my  promise  never 
again  to  repeat  my  action.  I  had  already  given  a 
sacred  vow  to  my  poor  wife  to  that  effect,  and  so 
help  me  God,  come  what  may,  I  will  never  break  it ! 

This  friend  and  another  gentleman  in  the  trade 
provided  me  with  money  to  pay  my  pressing  bills. 
They  amounted  to  less  than  three  hundred  dollars, 


226  At  the  Brink  of  the  Grave 

and  in  a  few  days  I  was  able  to  return  to  the  office. 
Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Slater  had  been  informed  of  the 
exact  situation.  It  was  a  terrible  blow  to  her,  but 
she  did  all  she  could  to  help  by  releasing  me  from  a 
large  part  of  the  indebtedness  and  agreeing  to  accept 
a  very  low  rate  of  interest  on  the  remainder. 


CHAPTER  XLVII 

AGAIN    AT    THE    HELM 

-  When  I  again  took  up  my  work  at  the  office,  it 
was  with  courage  renewed  and  fortified  by  a  week 
of  constant  effort  on  the  part  of  my  wife  to  make 
me  realize  more  than  ever  before  how  much  easier 
it  would  be  for  her  to  bear  any  trials,  no  matter  how 
severe,  with  me,  rather  than  a  life  of  ease,  even  were 
that  possible,  without  me.  While  with  loving  care 
she  nursed  me  back  to  health,  she  showed  me  the 
folly  of  what  I  had  attempted,  and  though  making 
that  point  clear  and  forceful  avoided  saying  one 
word  that  would  add  to  the  depression  which 
weighed  me  down.  Despite  the  frightful  shock  she 
had  received  her  love  remained  faithful  and  undi- 
minished. It  was  marvelous — the  love  and  courage 
of  that  noble  woman ! 

With  a  determination  to  succeed  in  at  least  making 
a  living  and  sufficient  beside  to  meet  the  payments 
to  Mrs.  Slater,  I  put  my  whole  soul  in  my  work.  I 
do  not  suppose  I  really  worked  any  harder  than  I 
had  for  years  past,  but  it  seemed  so,  and  in  a  measure 
my  efforts  were  rewarded. 


228  Again  at  the  Helm 

We  had  on  our  books  a  good  many  customers 
who  were  small  buyers.  The  rest  of  the  trade  not 
competing  with  us  so  actively  for  this  class  as  for 
the  larger  business,  made  it  easier  for  us  to  hold  it. 
Most  of  these  firms  we  had  been  selling  for  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century. 

There  had  recently  been  much  complaint  from 
these  customers  of  the  prices  we  charged  them, 
compared  with  published  quotations  of  the  wholesale 
market. 

On  the  occasion  of  a  call  at  the  office,  one  of  them 
asked  if  it  would  not  be  practicable  in  some  way  to 
buy  to  better  advantage  ?  We  explained  to  him  the 
terms  on  which  the  business  in  importation  lots  was 
done.  If  we  were  in  a  position  to  buy  our  supplies 
direct  in  large  lots,  as  importers,  paying  cash  against 
the  documents  on  arrival  of  the  steamer,  and  then 
await  discharge  of  cargo,  after  which  would  come 
weighing  up  in  small  lots  and  making  shipments,  we 
could  afford  to  sell  at  lower  figures,  but  we  had  not 
the  capital  to  do  the  business. 

He  then  suggested  that  the  difficulty  of  lack  of 
capital  could  be  surmounted  by  making  our  sales  on 
terms  of  payment  of  approximate  amount  with  order. 
I  was  so  eager  for  business  that  I  probably  did  not 
give  to  the  possibility  of  loss  to  me  in  carrying  out 
such  a  suggestion  the  consideration  it  should  have 
had.  At  all  events,  we  mailed  a  few  letters  to  cus- 
tomers explaining  the  matter,  and  a  business  on  this 
basis  was  commenced  and  quickly  grew  to  large 
proportions. 


Again  at  the  Helm  229 

This  fact  made  it  dangerous,  for  the  larger  the 
business  the  greater  our  risk.  We  had  to  continually 
have  an  interest  in  the  market  either  on  one  side  or 
the  other,  and  if  the  business  was  large  our  interest 
must  be  in  proportion. 

For  some  time  the  business  was  most  satisfactory. 
My  judgment  of  the  market  was  correct,  our  cus- 
tomers were  well  pleased,  and  we  made  good  profits. 
I  was  greatly  encouraged  with  the  outlook  and 
believed  my  troubles  were  at  an  end.  During  this 
period  a  certain  large  interest  used  our  office  as  a 
medium  for  some  market  manipulation,  and  while 
this  was  going  on  that  interest  stood  behind  us  in 
this  business. 

Then  came  the  other  side  of  the  story.  We  made 
losses.  The  market  went  against  us  when  our 
interest  in  it  was  considerable,  and  the  losses,  not  a 
large  amount,  still,  were  to  us  staggering.  Compared 
with  the  business  we  had  been  doing,  there  were  but 
few  contracts  outstanding.  We  tried  to  complete 
them.  The  material  had  arrived,  we  arranged  to 
have  it  weighed  up,  and  it  was  invoiced,  but  we  could 
not  make  the  shipments. 

Just  as  events  culminated  there  came  to  me  in  a 
most  unexpected  manner  an  opportunitv  for  a  con- 
nection in  another  line  of  business  which  promised 
large  and  almost  immediate  results. 

I  was  through  with  the  struggle  in  my  own  trade. 
Without  large  capital  it  was  useless  to  go  on;  and 
even  with  this,  the  business  had  been  so  cut  into  by 
the  trusts,  the  opportunity  for  making  money  was 


230  Again  at  the   Helm 

far  less  than  in  earlier  years  of  my  career.  In  the 
new  line  I  would  meet  with  strangers  and  must  of 
necessity  carry  with  me  no  complications.  I  believed 
in  a  comparatively  short  time  I  could  make  enough 
money  to  pay  my  creditors  and  that  the  end  would 
justify  the  means. 

To  my  wife  I  said  simply  that  my  affairs  had 
become  involved,  and  then  started  on  the  journey  to 
my  new  field,  many  hundreds  of  miles  from  New- 
York,  leaving  her  to  adjust  the  old  matters,  with  my 
aid,  through  correspondence. 

All  but  two  or  three  of  the  smaller  creditors 
showed  the  utmost  kindness,  expressing  their  sym- 
pathy and  the  willingness  to  give  me  time  to  pay  my 
debts.     This  was  all  I  asked. 

The  new  connection  was  all  that  was  represented. 
I  liked  the  business,  my  particular  wrork  was  con- 
genial, and  so  good  were  the  prospects  I  was  as 
nearly  happy  as  a  man  of  my  domestic  taste  could  be 
when  separated  from  his  wife. 

Early  in  1904  it  became  necessary  for  me  to  spend 
some  time  in  a  city  near  New  York.  My  wife  then 
gave  up  the  house,  stored  her  furniture,  and  with  the 
family  joined  me. 

It  was  here  the  hardest  blow  of  all  was  dealt  me. 
One  of  the  smaller  creditors,  in  an  attempt  to  collect 
his  debt  through  the  office  of  the  district  attorney, 
caused  my  arrest.  This  came  at  a  time  when  my 
efforts  were  about  to  show  tangible  results,  and  its 


Again  at  the  Helm  231 

publicity  severed  my  business  connection.  Instead 
of  hastening  the  payment  of  his  claim,  my  creditor 
by  his  action  delayed  it.  The  blow  was  a  crushing 
one  in  every  way — to  my  financial  prospects  and  to 
my  mental  and  physical  condition. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII 

A    NIGHTMARE 

i 

"In  the  eyes  of  the  law  a  man  is  innocent  until 
proven  guilty;  the  world  says  he  is  guilty  until 
proven  innocent." 

I  was  taken  to  the  district  attorney's  office,  treated 
with  courtesy,  and  told  I  would  be  released  on  giving 
five  hundred  dollars  bail.  I  believed  I  could  do  this 
and  was  given  the  day  to  accomplish  it.  By  tele- 
phone and  telegraph  I  tried  to  find  the  friends  whom 
I  thought  would  surely  stand  by  me  to  that  extent 
in  this  emergency,  especially  as  there  was  no  possible 
risk  of  loss.  They  had  but  to  take  the  five  hundred 
dollars  out  of  their  bank  and  deposit  it  in  another 
place  quite  as  secure.  Sooner  or  later  it  would  come 
back  to  them. 

When  the  day  was  ended  I  was  poorer  by  the 
amount  of  the  tolls  I  had  paid  and  had  not  found 
the  friend.  This  one  would  like  to  do  it,  but  could 
not ;  another  had  gone  to  luncheon  and  would  call  me 
up  on  the  telephone  as  soon  as  he  returned — he  must 
be  still  at  luncheon.  Every  one  I  tried  had  some 
excuse. 


A  Nightmare  233 

To  my  wife  I  wrote  fully,  suggesting  to  her  a 
number  of  people  to  whom  she  might  appeal  in  her 
efforts  to  effect  my  release.  Then  I  settled  down  to 
grim  despair. 

For  three  full  weeks  my  wife  labored  unceasingly 
to  get  bail.  The  amount  had  been  reduced,  first  to 
three  hundred,  then  to  two  hundred  dollars,  and 
finally  she  secured  the  latter  sum  and  I  returned  to 
her  almost  a  wreck  mentally  and  physically. 

Among  the  people  I  had  told  my  wife  to  apply  to 
was  Mr.  Mallison,  who,  it  will  be  remembered,  was 
the  man  to  whom  I  sold  the  Wood  and  Slater  inter- 
ests in  certain  properties. 

For  some  time  before  our  second  failure  he  had 
been  doing  business  in  our  office  on  joint  account 
and  some  of  the  money  he  had  contributed  was  lost. 
In  reply  to  my  wife's  letter  he  gave  these  losses  as  a 
reason  for  not  helping,  and  added  that  I  had  admitted 
to  his  lawyer  I  had  not  made  the  purchases  for  which 
his  money  was  to  be  used  as  margins. 

I  know  the  man  and  do  not  believe  he  would  know- 
ingly make  a  statement  contrary  to  the  facts,  but  I 
cannot  conceive  how  he  could  possibly  place  such  a 
construction  on  anything  that  was  said  by  me  at  the 
interview  he  referred  to,  or  at  any  other  time.  It  is 
absolutely  and  unqualifiedly  false.  Not  only  did  I 
make  clear  that  every  dollar  of  his  money  had  been 
applied  as  intended,  but  I  urged  his  lawyer  to  ex- 
amine the  books  and  trace  the  losses,  and  understood 
he  would  do  so.  When  he  did  not,  I  supposed  he  was 
entirely  satisfied  and  did  not  want  to  further  mix  in 


234  A  Nightmare 

my  affairs  for  fear  that  the  creditors  would  try  to 
hold  his  client  responsible  as  an  undisclosed  partner. 

Is  it  reasonable  to  suppose  that  I  would  appeal  to 
Mallison  for  help  if  there  had  been  the  slightest 
shadow  of  foundation  for  the  statement  in  his  letter? 
The  idea  is  preposterous. 

My  condition  was  now  such  that  rest  was  impera- 
tive. In  three  weeks  I  had  lost  in  weight  twenty- 
one  pounds  and  my  nerves  were  almost  in  a  state  of 
total  collapse.  I  hoped  a  few  weeks  in  the  country 
would  renew  my  physical  strength  and  mental  equi- 
librium, but  I  had  underestimated  the  force  of  the 
shock.  All  the  summer  and  fall  the  weakness 
remained  and  it  was  only  toward  the  close  of  the 
year  I  was  able  to  resume  my  labors.  This  enforced 
rest  was  made  possible  through  the  kindness  of  two 
or  three  gentlemen  in  the  trade  and  one  or  two  other 
friends  who  contributed  the  funds  to  meet  my  family 
expenses. 

When  bail  was  given  I  was  told  trial  would  come 
early  in  October.  Letters  of  inquiry  to  the  district 
attorney  have  brought  only  indefinite  replies,  simply 
telling  me  I  would  be  notified  when  wanted,  and 
there  that  matter  for  the  present  rests. 


CHAPTER  XLIX 


RETROSPECTION 


Nearly  forty,  or,  to  be  exact,  thirty-nine  years  of 
my  life  have  been  covered  by  this  narrative,  now 
drawing  to  its  conclusion.  As  I  sit  at  my  writing- 
table,  memory  carries  me  back  to  the  first  chapter, 
and  even  before — to  my  school-boy  days,  those  happy 
days  when  care  was  unknown. 

The  panorama  moves  slowly  on  before  my  mental 
vision  and  I  see  myself  a  youth  at  the  portal  of  man- 
hood. 

Into  view  now  comes  the  fair  girl  who  honored 
and  blessed  me  with  a  love  that  has  proved  almost 
beyond  the  power  of  conception.  As  I  raise  my  eyes 
from  the  paper  they  rest  on  her  dear  face.  Wonder- 
ful to  relate,  no  lines  of  care  do  I  discover.  Save 
for  the  premature  and  very  becoming  silver  of  her 
hair  and  the  matronly  development  of  figure  there  is 
but  little  indication  of  the  many  years  that  have 
passed  since  we  joined  hands  in  our  voyage  of  life. 
As  her  glance  meets  mine,  she  flashes  at  me,  as  in 
the  days  of  yore,  the  same  sweet  smile  of  love  and 
tenderness. 

The  early  years  of  our  married  life  appear  before 
me.     Those  years  when  periods  of  worry  alternated 


236  Retrospection 

with  others  of  freedom  from  care.  The  years  of  my 
early  struggle  against  heavy  odds,  to  gain  success. 
The  years  of  "Love's  young  dream" — how  sweet 
that  side  of  my  life  seemed  then,  and  how  far  sweeter, 
deeper,  stronger  seems  now  the  love  of  our  later  years 
through  the  triumphs  and  trials  those  years  brought 
with  them. 

To  my  mind  comes  the  successive  births  of  our 
children  and  the  joy  the  advent  of  each  brought  into 
our  family  circle. 

And  now  I  see  myself  in  the  delirium  of  that  well- 
nigh  fatal  illness  when  but  for  my  devoted  wife's 
careful  nursing  the  occasion  for  writing  this  narra- 
tive would  never  have  arisen. 

The  scene  changes  and  year  after  year  of  pros- 
perity rolls  into  view.  Those  years  when  with 
wealth  steadily  increasing  I  revelled  in  the  business 
I  had  created  and  reared  to  such  large  proportions. 
The  thought  of  the  contrast  with  present  conditions 
for  an  instant  stops  the  beating  of  my  heart — and 
yet  I  think,  "  'Tis  better  to  have  loved  and  lost,  than 
never  to  have  loved  at  all." 

Now  comes  that  day  when  I  considered  the  ques- 
tion of  retiring  from  business.  Oh !  why  did  not  the 
fates  then  guide  me  rightly?  What  years  of  misery 
would  have  been  spared  to  those  I  love — and  yet  that 
very  love  was  the  motive  that  swayed  me. 

The  pictures  change.  Clouds  gather  and  darken 
the  sunshine  of  my  life.     Crashes  of  thunder  sound 


Retrospection  237 

in  my  ears  and  the  storm  of  my  first  failure  is  upon 
me.  "The  ship  founders."  God  help  the  passengers 
and  crew! 

The  boat  is  launched  and  gathers  them  in — can  it 
make  the  shore?  Here  and  there  a  little  smooth 
water,  an  occasional  rift  of  light  through  the  clouds 
— alas!  only  to  be  followed  by  greater  darkness — 
and  the  pictures  cease.  But  no,  there  is  still  one  to 
come. 

The  boat  is  aground.  Mountains  of  surf  dash  on 
the  rocky  coast,  seeking  to  tear  the  frail  craft  to 
pieces.  In  the  perspective  behold  the  sea  of  many 
years,  studded  with  the  crafts  of  those  friends  of  my 
former  good  ship  Prosperity.  How  many  I  see  that 
owe  to  me,  some  only  a  pennant,  many  a  sail  or  two, 
and  others  the  staunch  deck  on  which  they  stand. 

Do  they  see  our  signal  of  distress?  Beyond  a 
doubt.     Do  they  answer  it  ?     Wait. 

Speeding  toward  us,  with  the  flag  of  true  friend- 
ship flying  at  the  peak,  comes  a  gallant  ship.  In 
letters  of  gold  the  name  Dwight  Temple  stands  out 
from  the  bow.  Many  times  we  have  asked  aid  from 
its  owner  and  never  once  has  it  been  refused,  though 
in  our  great  wreck  his  loss  was  heavy.  Here  comes 
to  our  relief  the  good  ship  George  Todd,  a  friend 
that  has  never  failed ;  but  in  many  of  our  dark  hours 
his  ship  has  sailed  in  foreign  waters,  far  removed 
from  our  troubled  seas.  Then  comes  sailing  right 
for  us  Charlie  Fitch,  never  appealed  to  but  once,  and 
then  did  his  best  and  instantly  to  help  us.     And  now 


238  Retrospection 

one  more,  the  Carleton  Gushing, — a  true  friend,  a 
heart  of  oak,  but  the  craft  too  small  to  avail  in  a 
heavy  sea — and  that  is  all ! 

How  about  that  great  ocean  steamer  which  could 
take  on  board  our  whole  boat  and  never  miss  the 
cost?  Has  the  captain  seen  our  signals?  Seen 
them? — yes,  again  and  again,  written  in  letters  of 
blood  drawn  from  our  hearts,  and  ignored  them. 
Freighted  with  probably  fifty  millions  of  dollars  that 
ship  goes  from  port  to  port  doing  good.  It  must  be 
so,  for  these  philanthropic  acts  have  been  widely 
advertised.  But  while  we  have  sailed  in  the  same 
waters  for  nearly  forty  years  our  boat  is  now  too 
small  to  be  noticed,  though  once  we  did  receive  a  keg 
of  ship  biscuit  for  which  we  still  owe  and  are  not 
ungrateful. 

And  there  is  another  large  steamer — how  about 
that  one?  No  help  for  us  there.  We  sailed  in 
company  for  years,  but  now  that  steamer,  the  Viedlcr, 
is  bound  on  a  voyage  of  discovery  to  the  North  Pole 
and  has  no  desire  to  aid  a  craft  which  has  met  with 
disaster,  even  though  manned  by  old  friends. 

And  so  it  is  with  all  the  rest. 

See  all  those  small  boats — not  one  but  has  seen 
our  signals  of  trouble.  We  did  not  expect  from 
them  material  aid.  They  are  too  small  to  give  it. 
But  though  for  many  years  we  have  been  friends, 
helping  them  time  and  time  again  in  their  days  of 
need,  they  have  forgotten  us.  From  them  we  looked 
for  the  touch  of  sympathy,  the  firm  grasp  of  the  hand, 


Retrospection  239 

the  friendly  word  of  encouragement,  and  we  looked 
in  vain.  Not  even  to  the  woman  came  a  single  line 
to  lighten  her  burden. 

It's  the  way  of  the  world.  Thank  God,  I  have 
been  able  to  chronicle  exceptions,  even  though  so 
few. 


CHAPTER  L 

A    DREAM 

V  It  is  midnight — my  narrative  is  finished.  As  the 
pen  drops  from  my  hand  the  weary  eyes  close  and  I 
sleep. 

The  living-room  in  our  bungalow.  Before  the 
great  stone  fire-place  sitting  side  by  side,  my  wife  and 
I.  Her  hand  rests  in  mine  as  we  gaze  into  the  flames 
ascending  from  the  fragrant  logs  resting  on  the 
massive  wrought-iron  andirons.  These  and  the 
caribou  head  looking  down  on  us  from  above  the 
high  mantel  came  from  the  hall  at  "Redstone."  The 
chime  rings  out  as  in  days  long  gone  by  from  the 
dear  old  clock  re-purchased  from  Charlie  Wood. 

As  we  look  around  the  room  in  the  soft  fire-light 
we  see  the  few  old  friends  left  from  that  awful 
slaughter  when  our  household  gods  were  sold;  and 
best  of  all,  in  the  low  shelves  at  one  end  of  the  room 
are  the  dearly  loved  volumes,  all  that  remain  of  our 
once  fine  library. 

We  leave  our  chairs,  and  going  arm-in-arm  to  the 
window  stand  watching  the  moon  rise  out  of  the  sea. 


A  Dream  241 

All  is  peace  and  contentment  in  this  modest  home 
wherein  we  plan  to  end  our  days,  for  at  last  we  have 
found  rest. 

The  maid  comes  in  the  room,  lights  the  lamps, 
draws  the  draperies  over  the  windows  and  again  we 
are  alone.  From  my  writing-table  I  take  up  the 
letter  received  from  my  publishers  by  the  last  mail. 
It  has  been  read  and  re-read,  but  again  I  read  it 
aloud.     It  tells  such  good  news. 

From  the  profits  of  my  book  I  have  already  satis- 
fied my  creditors,  repaid  Mrs.  Slater,  bought  our 
home  and  secured  a  moderate  income.  "Still,"  the 
publishers  write,  "there  seems  no  end  to  the  demand 
for  'Romance  and  Tragedy' ;"  and  they  enclose  a 
handsome  cheque,  one  of  many  that  have  reached  me. 

My  wife  kisses  me  and — I  awaken. 

'Tis  but  a  dream — will  it  come  true? 

The  public  must  decide. 


